


the heart you gave me

by acastle



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idols, Blood and Injury, Car Accidents, Heavy Angst, Injury Recovery, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sex, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, accident aftermath, mentions of stalkers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 53,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25168360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acastle/pseuds/acastle
Summary: He cannot help the tears that fall from his eyes as he looks down at his partner, his soulmate. Minseok, he was supposed to beuntouchable.Always seemed so above it all to Junmyeon, wonderful and otherworldly despite his humility, so ethereally beautiful and talented andeverythingJunmyeon holds dear.This was never supposed to happen to him. He never got hurt or injured, never seemed to be sick either. Minseok didn’t get hurt, but Junmyeon is reminded all too viscerally that Minseok is just as human as everyone else, just as human as he is.(Minseok and Junmyeon are the nation's most iconic idol duo. A car accident, a broken leg, and a throat surgery, and now, Junmyeon has to pick up the pieces.)
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 44
Kudos: 114
Collections: Beautiful Accidents Fest 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was very difficult to do. 
> 
> the mods of this fest are endlessly kind, much more than I deserved despite the many extension requests and troubles I sent them. I'm always sorry and thankful for their patience. 
> 
> I have complained about this many times, sometimes publicly but still vaguely, and it's because I knew how sensitive the topics I'm dealing with are here, and I struggled with doing it justice and not romanticizing the struggles they went through here. I tried to do it with care and thoughtfulness, but I know I must have come up short. it was a struggle to write. this deals with heavy subject matter, specifically of accidents, injuries, and the trauma and moving on that follows after. it is very long, and is still at the moment unfinished the latter part in the form of a second chapter will come soon.
> 
> there are many mentions of hospital and medical talk. i am not a doctor nor am I studying to become one. I know there are inconsistencies, as my research will surely be inadequate. I hope you may forgive me for my shortcomings, and if you are part of the respective fields, I hope you can suspend your disbelief. 
> 
> I have many people to thank. they are numerous, and I sincerely am so grateful for your generous, kind words. they kept me going.
> 
> for clarification, minseok and junmyeon are an extremely popular and beloved idol duo (much like in the vein of tvxq), named 'EX-ES,' which stands for the initials of their stage names, pronounced like the word 'excess.' fandom name is EV, as V is between S and X in the alphabet. I hope you enjoy this, and take care of yourselves.

“Why do they never feed us at these things,” Minseok murmurs, just loud enough for only Junmyeon to hear. 

Junmyeon tuts at him, reaching over to pat Minseok’s leg. Though, truthfully, Junmyeon understands his frustrations. These award shows last for _much_ too long, are hardly ever fair, and the last few times, they made the fans cry. It doesn’t help that their stylists had decked them out in fancier leather versions of the suits they’d used for the last comeback for their performance, the leather tight around their thighs and pulling up and exposing their bellies whenever they had raised their arms. He and Minseok, they worked hard to keep good bodies, and they’re not quite shy about showing themselves anymore, and their fans had screamed and waved their glowing peach lightsticks like crazy for them, but _still._ He feels a little more exposed than he’d like to be. 

“Just some crackers,” Minseok hums, and Junmyeon sighs. “A choco pie, that’s all. _Chips, nori,_ please, it’s not like I’m asking for ramen or anything-”

“Min, _please,”_ he pleads, even though he’s truthfully amused, knowing full well that Minseok was just trying to tease him, make the mood light. These shows do have the tendency to run them down, and Minseok knows, just _knows_ how to make him more at ease. He smiles, almost grins at Junmyeon, and Junmyeon can’t quite fight a smile back.

Minseok’s particularly beautiful tonight, glitter on his eyelids, and stars and moon sequins dotted near his eyes. Like Junmyeon needed _any more_ reason to be so _completely_ in love with him.

It’s been years. None of it has diminished, and with everything they’ve been through together, with everything Minseok means to him. It fills him up, and he stays quiet, letting it wash over him. 

It’s nearing the end of the night, thankfully, just a few more categories to announce and they can _finally_ go home and he can take off this stupid suit and maybe he can convince Minseok to come over to his place for some ramen and soju, maybe even order in some chicken if Minseok is feeling particularly uncaring for the workout they’ll have to endure to burn it off. 

He thinks, thinks so much about how he’ll ask Minseok to come to his place, how to convince him to the chicken they’ve both been denied for far too long, how to not let the night end just yet, at least for them. Thinks about Minseok, thinks about them. 

He thinks, thinks, so much so that he doesn’t listen to the last presenter’s ment, introducing the nominees. Doesn’t hear them read the winner’s name, doesn’t even really register the loudness of the screams. Stands with the rest of the artists seated around them to clap for the winner, mostly relieved to finally be able to get out of here soon. 

He’s so deep in mindless thought that he’s confused when he glances to the side, wondering why everyone else is either bowing to them, or giving them curious looks, maybe even more confused than he and Minseok are. 

“What are you doing?” Kyuhyun, one of their seniors, is gesturing up to the stage as the rest of Super Junior crowds around them, cheering and shaking them. Minseok gets cheek kisses from Siwon and Donghae as he blinks, utterly bewildered, and Junmyeon is bearhugged by Eunhyuk. “Pick up your award.”

“What?” Minseok blinks still, before their heads are literally turned to look at the massive screens. And.

_‘Album Of The Year - EX-ES, “Love Shot.”’_

“Huh,” Junmyeon mumbles, before it really, _really_ begins to sink in. And then, _holy shit._

“What the _fuck,”_ Minseok is saying, hopefully no one captures it otherwise they’d be in deep shit, and then he looks at Junmyeon, his eyes wide, still confounded. 

It doesn’t seem real. Their name doesn’t look real on the screen, the cheers of the arena don’t seem real, the peach glow of their EV’s lightsticks don’t seem real, the way they’re being congratulated, choruses of _“Xiumin! Suho!”_ don’t seem real. 

It feels like a fever dream.

It’s only when Minseok comes closer to him, hand reaching for the back of his neck, and he’s bringing their heads together silently, leaning his forehead against his and taking in the moment, does he float back to the ground. Minseok takes his hand, and they walk together, quiet, deeply fazed, the pure joy sinking in slowly.

Junmyeon can’t even look at the stage, instead looking to his partner, his light, really. His soulmate, as he guides him up the stairs, to the center of the stage as the hosts wait for them, award in hand, and. Between them, they’d agreed there was no need for positions, or leadership. They are equal partners, the rare idol duo that lead each other, build on each other’s strengths and work together to create their art. Many have discounted them over the years, have underestimated their work and abilities and they’ve been looked down for so long. They were told they would never be successful, even within their own company. They were told to wait, be patient to wait for other members, with ‘stronger vocals’ or ‘better dancing skills,’ they were told that they would never work.

But they do, they really do.

Junmyeon looks at Minseok, who accepts the award with a deep bow, and when he turns to look at Junmyeon, eyes bright and his grin blinding and beautiful, Junmyeon knows he’ll follow him, wherever, whenever. 

.

“You _just_ won a daesang, and you’re _still_ monitoring,” Chanyeol says from behind the wheel, glancing at them in the backseat as they make their way back to the company building.

“Well, someone needs to,” Minseok says, not lifting his eyes up from his phone’s screen as he watches through their performance earlier. 

“Baekhyun’s already doing that for you,” Chanyeol replies, gesturing next to him where their other manager is seated on the passenger seat, also paying close attention to his phone. 

Minseok says dryly, still not looking up from his phone, “That’s Superstar SM Town.”

“Is it?” Junmyeon looks at him, only for Baekhyun to confirm Minseok’s suspicions when he starts tapping rather violently at his screen as he sings along, _“‘Because I’m naughty, naughty -_ Hey, I’m Mr. Simple! _Because I’m naughty, naughty-’”_

“You really could become an idol with a voice like that, Baek,” Minseok says, as he’d always said for the past seven years since Baekhyun had began working for them. He tells Chanyeol just as much, just as often, but they always brush him off. 

Today is no different, when Baekhyun just scoffs, fingers moving relentlessly as he jabs through the song. “I don’t want that diet, thanks.”

“I have my studio, don’t you start, hyung,” Chanyeol says before Minseok can go in on him. 

“New video, up next Tuesday,” Baekhyun says automatically, and Junmyeon and Minseok both chuckle. 

Junmyeon turns to look at Minseok, who watches their performance still, singing along occasionally and saying things like, “Your drop here is perfect, Myeon,” or “I didn’t quite reach that note well, did I.”

Always praising Junmyeon, always talking down on himself. Junmyeon wishes he wouldn’t.

“You did amazing,” Junmyeon says, sidling up next to him to cuddle a little bit and tuck his face into Minseok’s neck. Minseok hums, moving a bit so he can curl in closer, and Junmyeon’s chest warms, his heart racing and he’s careful not to make a sound as Minseok rests his hand on his thigh comfortably. Fans are used to them being affectionate, tease them a lot for acting so much like a couple. He knows there’s quite a sizable number of people who do like them _together,_ and it’s strange to him. That there are people who care so much about them, are so overtly curious about their personal lives. 

After their boom, after _‘Call Me Baby,’_ things had become even more intense, and even perilous. Always changing their phone numbers, never out without escort, Minseok had had to move three times to avoid stalkers, and Junmyeon had developed unchecked anxiety that he tends to ignore, wanting to be strong for the people who depend on them.

Lines always seem to need to be drawn, between them and their audience. It’s been hard, sometimes. But Minseok holds his hand throughout everything, always, quietly calming him with a gentle touch and embrace when he needs it, always there to walk with him through this life, together. Things settle, and they remember why they do what they do. For the people who support them, and for each other. He’d really follow him anywhere. 

He can feel Chanyeol’s eyes on them on the rear view mirror, and Junmyeon says nothing still. Chanyeol knows, has known, about the way Junmyeon feels about Minseok, after a late night a few years ago when he had accompanied Junmyeon on small drinking binge after practice and Minseok had been on another of his secret dates with Changmin, before they had broken up a year later. Junmyeon had been so _heartbroken,_ spilling his little homo heart and crying and Chanyol had been there to clean him up after he had thrown up, 

Chanyeol had never said a word to Minseok, or anyone else, and Junmyeon is helplessly grateful. But he _had_ urged him, to tell him how he feels, and Junmyeon had expected it. Chanyeol is the old romantic, who trusts and believes and really feels, and Junmyeon is only half as emotional as him. 

With his job, he can’t afford to be too open.

And he knows it’s better, for them to be clear on what they are. Partners, group members, friends. At most, _best friends,_ maybe even honorary brothers. 

But never together. Not in the way Junmyeon wants, has wanted for years. And it’s okay, he’s made his peace with it. As long as they can continue to be by each other’s sides, then it’s okay. It has been enough, so far.

“Huh,” Chanyeol remarks, peering at the mirrors. 

“Is there something on my face?” Junmyeon asks him, blinking as Chanyeol looks on still at the mirror.

“That car have been following us since we left the venue,” he replies. 

Junmyeon sits up, and Minseok takes his hand, holding tightly, calming him, but also. Seeking some comfort for himself. 

It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last. But it always makes Junmyeon nervous. Always leaves him feeling unsettled, that there are people who go this far just to see them, to get pictures of them, a chokehold on their lives.

“Buckle in, I’ll try to lose them,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun’s phone goes silent as well as the atmosphere goes very still, serious.

Chanyeol’s a good driver, weaves in and out well and he’s never late, has the best sense of direction. His shoulders remain tense as he takes detours he and there, trying to shake off the car, and Junmyeon grips Minseok’s hand, heart up in his throat, and it’s like he can’t breathe.

But Minseok, _Minseok,_ beautiful soul, asks him quietly, keeping things light, tells him, “I still want that ramen. Baek, you should have snuck us _at least_ a cheese stick-”

“Even _I’m_ not allowed to eat a cheese stick, you know how it goes, hyung,” Baekhyun tells him, and his voice, though still the slightest bit strained from the situation, is bouncy, playing along. 

“I want beer,” Junmyeon says quietly. “Lychee flavored beer. And chicken. A lot of chicken. Fried.”

“You _literally_ have a repackage scheduled for next month,” Chanyeol sighs. “And _beer?_ You want us fired.”

“Beer’s not so bad,” Minseok says, putting down his phone and smiling serenely. “You still mad that I out-drank you?”

“Listen, hyung, I went in on an empty stomach and I’m sure you ate a whole loaf of bread that time,” Chanyeol argues.

“That was during Dot, _how_ could I be so irresponsible and eat so many carbs before a concert?” he remarks.

“You _were_ the one who provoked him, Yeol,” Junmyeon says, and Chanyeol looks so betrayed. 

_“I_ provoked _him?”_ he says, insulted, and they banter, back and forth, until the roads are clearer and emptier and it feels less like the lack of air will suffocate them, and Junmyeon holds Minseok’s hand, his grip loosened slightly as he relaxes.

Of course Minseok would know what to do. Would know how to take care of them all, keep their hearts a little lighter. 

“-And I _bet_ that under fair circumstances, _you_ will pass out first,” Chanyeol argues, slowing the car carefully as they get to a stoplight. 

“Bet,” Minseok says casually, not in the least bit bothered or threatened or challenged. He’s even smirking. It’s an attractive look. “Name the time and place.”

“Can’t be in the next two months though, it’s daily schedules until March,” Baekhyun reminds them. 

“Fine, then just you wait, for your birthday, hyung,” Chanyeol challenges, eyes set ablaze as the light turns green and he makes to take the wheel. 

“What a birthday gift that would be,” Minseok smiles, and Junmyeon is laughing, they’re all laughing, until they’re not. 

None of them could have seen it coming. How could they, with the road as empty as it was, not when the stoplight had _just_ turned green. 

They could have in no way have prepared for the way the car, that same one earlier on, barrels in on them as they move, and the impact is immense. 

Chanyeol tried to take control of the wheel, tries to take control. The roads are too slippery, and it feels like they’re veering out of control, and they are. 

Junmyeon feels his chest, so tight and tense, to the point that it’s numb with fear. He clutches Minseok’s hand, who grips back tightly, and it happens so quickly. 

They hit a guard rail, and they crash. 

.

“Junmyeon! Myeon, _fuck, hyung,_ wake up-“

Junmyeon’s head is aching, his chest hurts, and he’s groaning as he comes to, slowly. He blinks, and Baekhyun is sitting up over him, cuts on his lip and temple and looking frazzled, but he seems to be otherwise uninjured. 

His eyes. They’re paralyzed with fear. 

“Baek,” he grunts, and the sigh Baekhyun releases is shaky, relieved, on the verge of tears. “What, what happened?”

“We. We,” Baekhyun tries, tries, sounding so close to crying. His mouth trembles, and he says, “We crashed, hyung. The car, we. We spun out of control and flipped over.”

Fuck. _Fuck._ Junmyeon feels like the whole world is spinning. 

He barely moves his head in time to empty the contents of his stomach, retching on the floor of the car as Baekhyun rubs his back, though his hands shake slightly. 

“M-Minseok? Chanyeol?” Junmyeon gets out, noticing hazily that they’re the only ones in the car, breathing deeply. 

Baekhyun’s whole face falls. He begins to cry, sob. 

Junmyeon is suddenly more alert, more awake, ignoring every pain he’s feeling. 

“Baekhyun?” he says, like his heart is falling, dropping and crashing straight down to the deepest pit of his stomach in dread. “Baek. Fuck, _fuck-“_

He unbuckles himself, pushing past Baekhyun’s gentle grip trying to help him as he forces himself out of the wreck of the car. 

The other car is nowhere to be seen, but the image is burned into his brain, anger burning all the corners of his mind, but the thoughts melt away as quickly as they come, because he needs, _needs_ to find Minseok and Chanyeol. Minseok, _Minseok._

He’s barely able to take a few shaky steps when he sees Chanyeol several meters away, sat down on the ground and his back facing him, trembling violently. 

“Yeol, Yeol,” he says, ambling over, thankful his limbs seem to be in good shape despite the crash. Maybe a concussion at most, “Are you okay? It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault-“

He stops in his tracks when he sees, his world crashing around him. 

Chanyeol is hunched over Minseok, laying on the ground, his face wet with blood, unmoving. 

The devastation, the _shattering_ of his heart compounds on Junmyeon, all at once, like an avalanche. 

“No, no, _no no no no no,”_ falls from his lips as he runs towards him, deaf to Baekhyun’s calls for him to not push himself, needing to be near Minseok, needing to be with him, needing. Needing him, needing him to _stay._

He gets down to the ground, next to Chanyeol, barely registering the burn as his knees skid on the icy concrete as he stares down at Minseok’s face. His heart is quelled the slightest bit when he sees him breathe through his mouth, mumbling unintelligibly, blinking blearily. 

He looks awful, beat up and worse for wear, but alive, _alive,_ and Junmyeon is sobbing instantly, relieved, taking Minseok’s slack hand in his and holding on tight for dear life. 

“Hyung,” he hears, and he looks at Chanyeol, who is crying and crying, and Junmyeon’s heart breaks. “Hyung, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeol, don’t,” Junmyeon tries to soothe him, reach out to pat his thigh. “Please don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But,” he gasps, breath shuddering, and Baekhyun is coming them, hugging Chanyeol tightly, and they comfort each other together. 

“Not your fault,” Junmyeon says firmly, until Chanyeol breathes slowly. “None of us blame you. It’s not your fault. Minseok would say the same thing.”

“It’s not,” Baekhyun says again, repeating it over and over. “Breathe, Chanyeol.”

He tries his best, and Junmyeon pats his face, waiting until he looks a little calmer. 

“Are you okay?” he asks him, and Chanyeol takes a moment before he nods, wiping away his tears, but looking better, stronger. 

“I’m okay,” he says, breathes deeply. “I’m sorry for that.”

“No need,” Junmyeon says, and he does his best to ground them all, but Minseok. He needs Minseok, feels like there is no solid ground beneath him so long as Minseok is like this. He _needs him._ “Have you called an ambulance?”

Chanyeol shakes his head between shuddered breaths, and Baekhyun rubs his back, though he’s white as a sheet as well. 

“Okay, it’s okay,” Junmyeon says, holding on as tight as he can to Minseok’s hand, comforted quietly when Minseok grips back, weakly, but all the same. “Call for one, and Baek, call the police. We need to report this, and that car. They can’t get away with this.”

They both look at him, not wanting to leave them alone, unguarded, but Junmyeon pleads with them, “Please. I’ll stay with him. But, please, go.”

“I. Okay,” Chanyeol nods, making to stand and reach for his phone. Baekhyun is already up, dialing the number and taking a few steps away to call. 

Junmyeon breathes, though it’s difficult, feels like his heart is choking him, beating right against his throat. He looks down, careful not to move Minseok, and he holds his hand, knows his own is clammy and trembling. 

He cannot help the tears that fall from his eyes as he looks down at his partner, his soulmate. Minseok, he was supposed to be _untouchable._ Always seemed so above it all to Junmyeon, wonderful and otherworldly despite his humility, so ethereally beautiful and talented and _everything_ Junmyeon holds dear. 

This was never supposed to happen to him. He _never_ got hurt or injured, never seemed to be sick either. Minseok _didn’t_ get hurt, but Junmyeon is reminded all too viscerally that Minseok is just as human as everyone else, just as human as he is. 

“Min,” he says, and he’s sobbing, crying harder than he’s ever cried before. “Min, stay with me. I’m right here. We’re right here. Hold on for us, please. Please.”

Minseok doesn’t seem to hear him, and Junmyeon isn’t surprised, but he still finds himself looking for any indication that he’d been aware of what he’d said. 

_Please,_ Junmyeon prays, crying and breath shuddering as he sits next to him, _Please. Please save him. Please, let him stay. Anything. I’ll do anything._

The ambulance is there within minutes, but it feels like hours too Junmyeon. He feels like throwing up again as he watches them carefully, mechanically strap Minseok into a stretcher, and all the while, Minseok doesn’t move, doesn’t give them any more signs of life as he had given Junmyeon. 

“Hyung, you go with him,” Baekhyun is telling him gently, and Junmyeon begins to cry again, and he can’t control it. “It’s okay, he’ll be okay. Go ahead.”

“His, his family, fuck,” Junmyeon sobs, and Chanyeol hugs him tightly, fiercely. 

“We’ll get them there. Go, he needs you,” Chanyeol tells him, his voice wet. Junmyeon’s breath shudders, but he gets in, the doors closed behind him, and the space is so tight, and it seems unreal. Like the worst nightmare that Junmyeon had never even thought would be possible to someone as strong, as constant as Minseok, and never on a night like this. On a beautiful night that was supposed to be theirs to take.

He holds his hand again, and he prays. Prays as the paramedics start hooking Minseok up to machines, checking his pulse, blood pressure, pupil dilation, and Junmyeon loses count. Stays quiet and prays, trying not to feel so useless. 

They bring Minseok into the emergency room as soon as they get to the hospital, a flurry of people and doctors ordering other staff around, a scene he’d never thought he’d have to witness himself. Never, never. 

“Sir, may I ask what happened?” a nurse asks him, and he can’t stop looking away from Minseok. He prays, still.

“A. A car, we. We, _shit,”_ he tries, trying to hold himself together, but he feels like he’s untangling. 

“It’s okay, take your time,” they tell him, but time feels too limited. He doesn’t know anymore, doesn’t know what to think or feel or say. He wants to cry, desperately, wants to sob so hard so someone will hear him and share his grief.

But the only person he wants to share it with is fighting for his life. 

“We were at a red light, and a car crashed on to ours,” he says, the words painful as they fall from his tongue. “He was seated behind the driver’s seat, we. It’s hazy, but we hit a guardrail. Car flipped twice, and. And when I came to he was on the road. Fuck, _fuck-”_

He really, truly feels like throwing up again, and the nurses sees it. They bring him over to an empty chair, and he slumps into it, breathing as he’s guided gently, the nurse’s voice steady and calm, but he feels like there’s no air to breathe. 

“I’d like to check you for any injuries, sir.”

“I’m fine,” he says, and he says it bitterly. Hates that he had somehow gotten out unscathed, while. 

“Sir-”

“Save him,” he says, his head empty aside from worry and anger and devastation and _Minseok Minseok Minseok,_ and it’s only then that he realizes there’s blood on his clothes, most of it not his own, but he can’t care. Not even when the nurse checks on him for any injuries, and he follows along, letting them examine him as he looks on at the door they had wheeled Minseok through absentmindedly, letting them confirm to him that he has a few bruises on his arms and his cheek, cuts on his knees, but he’s otherwise okay. He tells them over and over, “No, I’m not important. Minseok, please. Minseok, save _him._ Save him.”

It feels too long before Chanyeol and Baekhyun come through the entrance, and Minseok’s mother, father, and sister are with them, looking frantic, their worry evidenced in the wetness on their faces. 

Junmyeon rises instantly, and his tears fall as soon as they meet in the middle of the lobby, crying and crying together as they hold each other.

“I’m sorry,” Junmyeon sobs, and he’s hugged tighter by Minseok’s mother, who cries with him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-”

He breaks even more as she wails, “My baby, my _baby, please, please,”_ and Minseok’s father, a man he’s never known to be openly emotional, breaks in silent tears, holding his daughter close as she cries, and Junmyeon doesn’t know what to do.

Minseok would know what to do. 

_Please. Please._

_._

It’s a little before daybreak, a little more than an hour after they had gotten to the hospital and waited restlessly in the waiting area for any news, the whole place quiet and somber, when Baekhyun and Chanyeol pull Junmyeon aside to an empty corridor, eyes nervous and seething. 

“They surrendered themselves,” he’s told. He can see the way Chanyeol’s jaw clenches, his hand shaking in silent rage, and Baekhyun has never looked more serious. “It’s. It was a group of fans. Stalkers. They’d chased Minseok out of one of his previous apartments before. They gave themselves up.”

Junmyeon has never known fury, until now. He feels himself tremble with how furious he feels, and the only thought that prevents it all from consuming him is Minseok. 

He doesn’t have much energy as it is. Any that is still in his spirit, he wants to dedicate to only him.

“Let the company handle it,” he says in a low voice. Baekhyun and Chanyeol both start, staring at him, and they open their mouths to try and convince him to not let it go like this, but he just goes on to say, “If they truly care, like they say they have for so many years. They will do this, for us. For him. It is the very least they can do. I want to stay with Min.”

They both look at him for a long while, but their expressions are understanding, subdued. “Okay, hyung. We get it. We’ll get it, for you both. For Minseok hyung.”

He sighs, feels his chest shudder, and it’s like he can’t breathe freely still. The air is thick, it has been for hours, and it doesn’t seem to be getting lighter any time soon.

He’s tired, but restless. His head is so full, but empty. He wants to cry, but he feels like his soul is bare.

He wants Minseok to tell him everything will be okay.

But he can’t. 

It’s when Minseok’s been in surgery for hours, when a doctor comes out to meet them. His expression is neutral, but something in Junmyeon’s heart stops when he sees the darkness in his eyes. He feels like throwing up again.

“I would like to speak with Mr. Kim’s family,” he says, looking at them all. Instantly, Minseok’s parents and sister stand, and. His mother comes over to Junmyeon, taking his hand and making him stand despite his confusion, the heaviness of his chest.

“Junmyeon, darling, come on,” she tells him, and Junmyeon’s head is so hazy. He doesn’t understand, why she’s making him come as well, because this moment is for them. For Minseok’s family.

“I’m afraid, family only,” the doctor says as he observes the scene, knowing like Junmyeon that he doesn’t belong there. The Kims don’t even pause.

“He _is_ family,” Minseok’s father says, not missing a beat. Junmyeon’s chest tightens inexplicably, and the sting of tears in his eyes makes him blink repeatedly. He stays silent, but he’s overwhelmed, grateful, and the doctor just nods in understanding, before he leads them off to a quiet corner just a bit away.

He tells them many things. Junmyeon wishes his head were clearer so he can understand, but he can’t seem to follow the words. But, the small bit he does catch, makes his heart drop down to the pit of his stomach, despair filling his whole body.

Fractured hip, broken ribs, fractured left leg that required metal rods be placed in his leg. 

Junmyeon knows instantly, Minseok will never dance the same way again, if at all. His heart breaks, but, the next words from the doctor’s mouth _shatters_ him. 

“What do you mean?” Mrs. Kim’s normally soft tone is hardened, worried, in denial. Junmyeon feels it all, as well. _No. No._ “What do you mean, you have to pierce his neck, why, _why?”_

“The patient’s lungs were pierced by his broken ribs,” the doctor explains patiently, and with every word, Junmyeon feels himself slipping into a hopelessness he had hoped he would never feel. “In order to repair the lungs and for the patient to regain his breathing capacity, I’m afraid we will be forced to make a hole in his neck.”

“But that would mean he would never sing again,” Minseok’s father says, his eyes ablaze. “The end of his career. His love for the stage, we cannot in good conscience do that to him.”

“Sir, your son will die if we don’t operate soon,” the doctor says. He looks apologetic, and Junmyeon can barely look at him.

“He would rather die than not be able to sing,” his father says vehemently, “It is his _life._ What would he do if he can’t sing?”

“There must be another way,” she says, “there must be another way to save him.”

Minseok’s parents debate with the doctor, trying to convince him to think of other ways of saving him, doing their best as they always have, for him, always with his heart in their minds and souls. 

Meanwhile, Junmyeon. Junmyeon stays quiet, wanting to say something, _anything,_ but. He can’t. 

He doesn’t know what to say, what to think, what to feel.

Minseok is his musical soulmate. His other half, the melody he always searches for in their songs, his partner. Maybe. Maybe even his whole life.

Junmyeon wants him to keep singing. It doesn’t need to be said, because he will always want Minseok to sing, to do what he loves. But.

Time is passing too quickly, and Minseok’s on borrowed minutes, _seconds._

It’s his life on the line. And Junmyeon doesn’t know how to save him in any other way. 

.

Time passes. The sun rises, the waiting area is slowly filled. The company seems to come in droves to visit. Directors, senior artists, junior artists, so many staff people. Yixing comes, straight from a plane from China, and he hugs Junmyeon fiercely, his position as creative director nothing between them. Jongin comes straight from another plane, where he’d been choreographing with someone from a far off place for their next comeback, supposedly. He cries, his face wet, and Junmyeon hugs him.

Junmyeon doesn’t even know how to absorb everything. Everything floating on the surface, sinking in slowly, and he feels like he’s on the teetering edge of drowning with it all.

His parents come, and he cries, and he’s held close, their warmth seeping into his skin slowly. 

It’s early, but it feels late, when Minseok’s mother comes to him. Her eyes are red, but her smile is soft and honest, though small.

“Junmyeon, darling,” she says, and her voice trembles slightly, but her words don’t shake as she asks him, “Would you take a walk with me?”

She doesn’t even need to ask. He stands instantly, and he sniffs a little, but smiles back when she pats his hand. He offers his arm, and she loops hers in, and they walk away from the crowd that had amassed, all for Minseok, and while he’s thankful, he needs the quiet, just for a bit, just to think. He knows she feels the same way.

They walk for a bit, until they get to a place where halls are more silent, waiting areas empty, lights slightly dimmer. They don’t say anything for a long while, just taking it all in. The silence, the hecticity, and their own grief. 

Another minute, before they sit down on some chairs near a nurse’s station, and then more quiet between them. Until.

“He’s getting more critical, with every minute we wait,” she says. She sounds like she’s about to burst into tears, but she is steady, as she always is.

Junmyeon says nothing still. The air is stale and his heart is tired. He feels like crying again.

“Junmyeon,” she says. Her voice breaks. “We talked about it, and. We’re going to do it.”

He closes his eyes. He had no chance, and the tears escape, running down his cheeks. He grieves, grieves, and then. Makes his peace.

“I hope you understand, darling,” she says, pleading. He has no right to be pleaded to. This is _her son,_ and Junmyeon knows how hard this must have been for her. For them. She shouldn’t plead with him. “I need him. I need my son. If this will save him, then. I, _please-”_

“It’s okay,” he says quietly. His voice is thick with his tears, but he looks at her, tries to smile, give her some strength. Her eyes shine, and she holds his hand. “It’s okay. I understand.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” she says. She cries, and Junmyeon cries with her. “I’m sorry.”

“I,” he tries to begin, but his throat closes up. He breathes, slowly, trying to calm his tight chest, and make his peace. Accept it. Because, he truly understands. It’s Minseok, and Junmyeon wants him to live.

He calms himself, and he says after a deep, shuddering breath, gathering all his strength, “I need him alive, too. More than I need him to sing.”

 _I want to continue to love him,_ he wants to say. He cries quietly instead, the tears trailing down his face as he tries to hold himself together.

She doesn’t say anything, but she holds his hands, and. It feels like, she _understands._

Junmyeon doesn’t know, but he would not be surprised if she had been aware, all this time, that he had been in love with her son. And this, the moment, quiet and giving each other comfort, feels a bit like a blessing. 

Junmyeon breathes, breathes deeply and exhales, heartbroken but accepting it all, and praying to anyone who will listen.

.

The broken rib piercing his lungs causes Minseok to develop pneumothorax, and he remains in a coma for close to four days.

It’s the heaviest, most stressful, most silent four days of Junmyeon’s life.

He barely leaves the hospital, not even caring for the state of his back after hours and hours sat on the chairs of the waiting area, and he barely eats, only taking bites when his mother or Minseok’s mother forces him to. 

Baekhyun, Chanyeol are there most of the time too, taking turns driving Junmyeon back to the dorm to get a change of clothes or a quick shower to freshen himself up, taking him to eat or get coffee when he feels particularly low.

It’s agonizing, the wait. It improves a little, on the second day, when they’d been allowed to see Minseok and stay in the room with him, but Junmyeon almost cries on the spot upon seeing Minseok. 

He never would have thought that he would see Minseok this way. Hooked up to machines, laying still on a bed and needing help to breathe, weakened and unconscious, injured with his leg raised, casted up, metal keeping it whole. 

With a hole in his throat, a tube connecting to a machine. 

But. Alive, alive, his heart still beating and it’s enough for Junmyeon to exhale, for his heart to settle slightly, for hope to blossom quietly. 

He latches on, even though it’s small. 

“He’ll be okay,” someone is saying. He doesn’t know who. He hadn’t even been aware that there were other people in the room. But he tries to believe them, regardless. 

They take turns sitting bedside. His shifts are mostly dead of night, letting Minseok’s family take most of the day next to him, but he doesn’t mind. The nights are quiet, and he can’t sleep anyway. Feels like he can’t ever sleep again, at this point. 

It’s three in the morning, the lights are low in the room aside from the soft overhead nightlight above Minseok’s headboard, and Junmyeon bundles up in his jacket, breathing slowly, watching Minseok as the machines beep around him, his heart thankfully steady, oxygen being pumped into his body. His face is bruised, gauze over the biggest scratches underneath the mask helping him breathe, and Junmyeon can’t stop looking at him. 

He’s so still, but alive.

Junmyeon forces himself to look at the tube connecting to his throat, Minseok’s shattered leg, making himself come to terms with it. His chest goes tight, and Junmyeon doesn’t know what to think. 

Minseok can never sing or dance again. Junmyeon can’t make himself go on alone; he _needs_ Minseok with him. 

EX-ES is done. 

He’s heartbroken, nothing short of devastated. The group is his meaning, his reason, for what he wakes up in the morning and continues to work hard in a place that’s not always kind to them both. 

But, Minseok is his _life._ And he is alive. Alive, beautifully alive. Just with this, Junmyeon is _grateful,_ and it’s worth it all. It will be worth it all. 

Minseok. Minseok will be _crushed._

And that is what makes Junmyeon’s heart drop, his chest go tight. For as much as the group was his life, it was just as much Minseok’s as well. 

Junmyeon breathes deeply, and it comes out shakily. He’s scared, terrified of what comes for them next, after this. 

But he will be here for Minseok. Whatever he feels, he’s sure Minseok will feel hundredfold, and whether or not Minseok crumbles, he needs to be there for him, to support him. 

Through everything, Junmyeon will _always_ be his. 

He sighs, rolls his neck and opens his eyes to stare at the ceiling. It’s blank, clean, and time doesn’t seem to exist. 

He glances at the clock on the wall, reading _‘3:13,’_ and the seconds pass by so slowly. 

He breathes, and looks down on the bed again. Open eyes stare back at him. 

His heart stops, then leaps. 

“Min, Min, holy _shit,_ Minseok,” Junmyeon exhales on a sob, and tears spring into his eyes, and relief fills his whole chest as he stands, leaning in closer to him. 

Minseok blinks, and opens his mouth to speak. And Junmyeon sees the exact moment Minseok realizes he _can’t._

His eyes widen, and he tries still, his mouth trying to form the words but his throat physically won’t allow it. Junmyeon sees the panic in his eyes, and Junmyeon’s heart breaks, tears coming faster as Minseok is realizing slowly what’s happening. 

“Hey, hey, it’s,” Junmyeon starts to say, but he can’t finish it. He can’t say _‘it’s okay,’_ not when Junmyeon is sure if it will be, for him. If Minseok will feel like it will be at all. 

The panic and pain don’t dissipate on Minseok’s face. If anything, it gets even worse, when he realizes his leg is hoisted up, heavily bandaged and broken in so many places, and Junmyeon watches with heartbreak as Minseok’s eyes film over with tears, and he holds his hand not connected to the drip, linking their fingers together and murmuring, “I’m here. I’m here, we’re all here. We’re here for you.”

He presses the call button for the nurse’s station, and Minseok stares at him, his tears spilling over as Junmyeon watches him try to make sense of what’s happening to himself. Junmyeon cries with him, relieved but devastated along with Minseok, and he wants to give him every comfort he can afford.

He doesn’t know what to do, aside from crying with him, holding his hand, whispering words of comfort to him, and pressing a gentle kiss against Minseok’s forehead, taking a bit of comfort himself. 

Junmyeon wakes everyone else up, and he cries all over again when Minseok’s family wakes from their position, slumped together on the sofa, exhausted, but all the sleep in their eyes disappearing when they see him, looking at them and crying. They cry, going over to him and they all have their moment of relief, gratitude, hope. 

“Yeol, Baek,” Junmyeon gently shakes their managers, seated together against the wall and leaning against each other. They blink slowly, yawning, wiping at their eyes as they wake, and when they take in the scene, they instantly stand up, coming over to the foot of the bed and staring at Minseok, probably not even realizing there are tears spilling down their faces. 

The doctor comes in, and Junmyeon watches the apprehension in Minseok’s gaze, the way he holds his father’s hand for comfort, the way he searches for something. Searching, his eyes roving, and. Stopping, when they meet Junmyeon’s. 

Junmyeon’s chest tightens, and he comes a little closer, and closer still, until he reaches Minseok’s side. He slides his hand into Minseok’s palm. 

Minseok’s grip is weak, but it’s _there._ Junmyeon holds on tight for both of them. 

“You’re very lucky,” the doctor tells Minseok. “But, much more than that, you are very strong.”

He’s completely right. Minseok really is the strongest person Junmyeon knows. He holds on tighter to his hand, hoping he knows it too. 

“Your left leg was shattered in three different places. It required extensive surgery and we’ve had to put in metal rods, but with therapy, you’ll be walking again in a few months,” he says in a calm voice, but Junmyeon feels Minseok’s hand tighten around his. His eyes are shining, and Junmyeon knows this look well, though Minseok doesn’t often wear it.

_No. Please._

“How about dancing?” his father asks, keeping his voice steady, but Junmyeon can see the way his eyes are red-rimmed, the way his hand tightens around Minseok’s. They’re scared. They all are.

The doctor is careful with his tone, telling them gently, “He will get to a point wherein he will be able to walk and function normally, and some dancing isn’t completely out of the question. But, I’m afraid, having metal in your leg doesn’t allow for very much.”

Junmyeon’s breath shudders, and while he had known, it still aches, for it to be confirmed this way. He looks down at Minseok, whose tears run down his cheeks as his face crumples in anguish, breaking Junmyeon’s heart all the while. 

“And, there is the matter of your lungs,” the doctor continues, his tone even more careful. His face is purely apologetic when he tells them, “The patient had broken his ribs, and the ribs had punctured your lungs. You were very much close to death, Mr. Kim.”

Minseok cries more, almost as much as his mother does, and Junmyeon can’t stop shaking. “We had to proceed with a tracheostomy, with an incision to your neck, to repair your lungs and correct your breathing. Considering the circumstance, even with this procedure, there was about a 20% chance of survival. But, like I said, you are very strong. It looks like you’ll make a sound recovery.”

“And, his. His voice? His throat?” Chanyeol is the one who speaks. The room goes very quiet. Junmyeon closes his eyes.

“The hole will eventually heal and close, either on its own or through surgery,” he continues. He looks kindly at them, and says, “Eventually, with speech therapy, communicating and using your voice is possible, with a tracheostomy tube in place. But, generally speaking, the procedure means it will be difficult to speak as exhaled air goes out the tracheostomy opening rather than up through your voice box.”

“So, singing?” Baekhyun asks.

The doctor smiles kindly, sadly, “I’m sure with time, something can be done. You won’t completely lose your voice. But, I can’t give you false hope. Returning to the way it had been, in the capacity you need it, it’s unlikely. I’m deeply sorry.”

Minseok breaks, and his face falls in devastation, his tears running, and if he had control over his voice, his wails would fill the room. The silence is even more heartbreaking.

Junmyeon cries, and they all do. 

.

It’s a few hours later, the room empty aside from Minseok on the bed, and Junmyeon sitting next to him, everyone else having left to freshen up or get breakfast. 

Junmyeon is quiet, and he knows Minseok is still awake. 

He had just stopped crying less than ten minutes ago. His chest rises and falls steadily, a comforting sight, but it’s all bitter around the edges. This fate is cruel, but kind, altogether.

Junmyeon doesn’t know what to make of it all. 

Minseok moves his head then, and Junmyeon looks at him, sitting up straighter as Minseok looks back, searching his eyes.

“Min?” he says, and he watches as Minseok opens his mouth, before closing it. His eyes get wet again, and Junmyeon’s chest aches. “Hey, I’m here, I - hold on.”

He takes out Minseok’s phone, screen slightly cracked from the accident but otherwise working, another painful twist that colors everything even darker. How his phone had turned out alright, with just a few scratches on the surface, while Minseok. 

Minseok would never be the same again. Metal in his body to keep it whole, a tube in his throat to help him breathe. 

It’s all cruel, cruel. 

He turns it on, and opens to the notepad so Minseok can type whatever he wants to say. It takes a while, Minseok struggling with one hand, but Junmyeon waits, would wait for as long as he needed, and eventually, Minseok shows the screen to him, and Junmyeon chest feels several weights heavier. 

_‘I’m sorry,’_ Minseok had written, and his expression is heartbreaking. It’s not long before the tears run down his face again, and he visibly struggles with the tube in his throat, aiding him to breathe. 

“Why are you saying sorry?” Junmyeon asks him, leaning in to brush his hair away from his face, smiling for him when Minseok’s face crumples gently, and Junmyeon feels _not enough,_ but he will stay here and listen. It is the very least he can do for him. He wishes he could give him the world, cure him, reassure and promise him that everything will be okay.

He can’t even guarantee the last one. It makes him feel even more inadequate.

 _‘Everything is going to change. I ruined the group,’_ Minseok says, and Junmyeon feels himself tremble, his eyes filming over with wetness that makes it all sting. More than anything, he hates, _hates,_ what all of this is doing to Minseok.

Not just breaking his body, but crushing his spirit. Making him feel like this is _his_ fault, when it’s not.

He’s the victim. And yet. 

He can’t stop crying, won’t stop apologizing, _‘Even if I try to get better, I can’t return to the group. I’m sorry.’_

“Don’t be sorry,” Junmyeon says, voice shaking, but he holds himself back, breathes in deeply, needing to be strong for him. For both of them. “It’s not your fault. And, don’t think about the group. You’re alive, Min. That’s what matters.”

It does little to appease Minseok, and his eyes flutter close as the tears leak out, leaving tracks on his face as he trembles. _‘I’m so sorry. I ruined our future. We still had so much to do.’_

Junmyeon can’t help it. He cries, reaching down to hold Minseok’s arm, and he’s right. They had _just_ won a daesang. They had plans for a repackage, tours. So much more to do. They had so much more time left, but. 

Neither of them, really _no one,_ would ever expect what would happen to them. What would happen to Minseok, all because of people who claimed to support them had gone too far. No one predicted it, and would never be able to predict it. 

Junmyeon remembers the image of Minseok, laying still on the cold road filmed over with ice. He remembers the hours of wait as Minseok had fought for his life, the memories seared into his mind and his heart, and it’s easy to let go, then, of their plans. 

It doesn’t matter as much, because Minseok fought and survived. This is the exchange, and it means so much more.

“It hurts,” he says, taking his time to think of what to say, to let Minseok know he’s there. He always will be. “It does hurt, because we deserve _so much more._ But, does it matter? Does it matter when you almost died? Min, I almost _lost you,”_ he chokes on his words, and the ache of his chest is quelled when Minseok looks on at him, silent, crying still, but taking in every word he says. “We almost lost you. And you’re here, still breathing.”

Minseok’s face is so full of _sadness,_ so plainly devastated. But, he still looks at Junmyeon the same way he has. Fondly, full of affection and trust, and Junmyeon holds on to it. He hopes Minseok can hold on to him, too.

“I am grateful for every word you’ll be able to say,” Junmyeon tells him, crying all the while through. “Because, it’s all proof that you fought, and you’re still here.”

.

Minseok stays in the hospital for much longer than anyone had expected. 

It doesn’t matter. Junmyeon is there everyday, even through all the noise that the accident had generated.

Outpouring of grief and love from fans, outrage at those who caused the accident, and it’s all a media shitshow Junmyeon can’t care less to be a part of. It becomes big enough of an issue that it raises concern in the government over the personal and private spaces in their industry, the line always stepped over by certain people. 

Many people ask him for his statement. He only gives one, specific and succinct, through the company.

_‘I hope due justice is served to those who caused this to happen. For this crime of invasion of privacy and intent to harm that almost caused the life of my partner. That Minseok will be the last victim of these incidents that have caused us and others like us turmoil for too long. We ask for due respect and privacy as we heal from this, and we think this is the least we are owed.”_

He tries to ignore it all, leaves it behind outside the door of Minseok’s room, coming in with gentle smiles and plenty of stories to tell, to fill the air between them. To not let the quiet sink into Minseok’s skin and make him feel bad.

Minseok cries everyday. And Junmyeon sits with him, holding his hand, sometimes he cries with him.

But. After a week, as Minseok is the way he is, he calms. The tears don’t stop, but they don’t come as often. 

And one day, when Junmyeon is telling him about how he had been showering and the bubbles wouldn’t wash off no matter how hard he scrubbed and how long he had stayed under the spray, only to discover Chanyeol had kept pouring shampoo over his head in an attempt to lighten his spirits, Minseok gives him the greatest gift.

He smiles. 

And Junmyeon had been the one to cry. 

.

Minseok is moved from the private ICU room to a regular room, and though he still had months of recovery to do, he no longer needed aid from a respiratory machine to breathe.

The company is paying for everything, and several staff and directors and artists come to visit. Baekhyun and Chanyeol are regular, constant fixtures, doing all sorts of shit to keep Minseok distracted and smiling, and Junmyeon is endlessly thankful that they’re there, keeping his spirits up as well. 

Jongin visits when he’s not otherwise preoccupied with rehearsals for the other artists. Yixing spends all his free time, any time wherein he’s not in China, in the hospital, keeping them company. 

Minseok has a lot of support. Junmyeon sees that though he’s still upset at his situation, he looks lighter, and he’s accepting things, slowly.

“He looks a lot better,” Yixing says, taking the seat next to him as they watch on as Chanyeol leans down to pinch at Minseok’s cheeks, making him smile that much wider. 

“He does,” Junmyeon says, smiling as well. It seems like it had taken so much, for Minseok to get to looking like this. Small miracles in the big miracle that is him still being here.

“And you do, too,” Yixing adds, giving him a gentle smile.

Junmyeon looks at him, eyes wide, not understanding. He swallows, and he shakes his head, “I’ve always been fine. There’s nothing to look better for.” 

Yixing gives him a look, quiet, concerned, but he seems to let it go after a few moments. He asks, “So, what’s been going on here? Have the doctors been saying anything?”

“Well, we’ve looked up therapists, on their recommendations,” he replies, “We found a great speech therapist near the hospital, and Jongin introduced us to his friend Sehun, he’s a great physical therapist, so Minseok will start meeting with him soon to get him back on his feet as soon as possible.”

Yixing nods, and he’s silent for a few more moments, seemingly taking it all in, choosing his words carefully when he speaks again, “Junmyeon, I hope you don’t mind me saying, or suggesting this. It’s not to imply that you’re not dealing with this well, because you both have been extraordinarily strong this whole time. But, I think seeing someone, talking to someone. A psychologist, or therapist. If, if you think you need it, maybe even a psychiatrist, for you both-”

“I, thank you for your concern, Yixing, but,” Junmyeon says, feeling his chest ache, “You don’t need to be concerned about me. I’m not the one who broke a leg or had an operation done on my throat.”

“I know, Myeon, but. I don’t mean to be indelicate, I’m sorry,” he says, his gaze gentle. “It’s just that experiences like this, it’s traumatic. And, please don’t be offended, I looked up therapists for the company, and. I think the both of you, it would be good to talk to someone.”

Junmyeon aches even more. “I just want to be here for him. He, he needs it more.”

“Junmyeon, just because the outcomes are different, doesn’t mean it’s any less traumatic for you,” Yixing tells him kindly, softly.

He swallows, everything hurting just that bit more. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he says. “You both are so strong. I just want to make sure you’re both okay. I hope I didn’t make you feel bad.”

“You didn’t,” Junmyeon answers. He’s really so thankful for Yixing for being so kind, so involved with them not just as a group under his care, but as friends close to his heart. “Thank you, really. I just, before me. I want Minseok to be okay.”

“I want you _both_ to be okay,” Yixing tells him. “Don’t forget about yourself. Just think about it.”

And he does, much more than he thinks he’d like to admit. When Junmyeon isn’t talking to Minseok and keeping his spirits up, when Minseok is taking his naps, or if he’s letting someone else take over the reins of watching over Minseok and keeping him company, Yixing’s words play over in his mind, and. 

He knows he needs it less than Minseok does. He’s _lucky_ to have gotten off as with little injury as he did, and he knows he’s not the priority right now. He’d much rather give any of his efforts to making sure Minseok is okay, but.

He can’t help but think about it. The heaviness in his chest, the way he still can’t sleep, and when he does, it’s not for long, nor is it peaceful. The way everything _aches,_ even though his body is not in any pain. 

He feels useless, feeling like this. 

And, he doesn’t want to worry Minseok over something so small. 

He doesn’t expect Minseok to bring it up first, though. 

_‘Yixing recommended a therapist to me,’_ Minseok types out on his phone his fingers much faster than they had been a few days ago. Junmyeon is so _proud_ of him. _‘I think, when I get out of here, I’ll book an appointment.’_

“That’s great,” Junmyeon says, smiling for him. “It really is. You’ve been doing so well.”

Minseok looks at him, and his cheeks pink the slightest bit. He types, and retypes, and retypes, before he finally shows Junmyeon his screen after a few minutes, _‘Do you want to go too?’_

Junmyeon blinks. “With you?”

 _‘No,’_ Minseok types. Junmyeon breathes in deeply when he reads on, _‘I mean, do you want to go too? For yourself?’_

“I’m fine,” Junmyeon tells him.

Minseok looks at him, his gaze going very soft. _‘It’s just that I noticed that you haven’t been sleeping much, if at all. You’re always here. I know you’re being strong for me and it means so much to me. But I know you. You’re hurting.’_

Junmyeon breathes in, squeezing his hands into fists, not knowing what to do with them. 

He should have known, he would never be able to hide what he feels, in front of Minseok. He knows he’s achingly transparent with him, and he truthfully wouldn’t be surprised if Minseok had any sort of inkling of how Junmyeon had _loved_ him, for so many years. 

If he did know, though, he hadn’t said anything. 

Junmyeon closes his eyes, tells him, “I’m okay. All I got out of it was bruises and some scratches. I, you need more of my support. I’m fine.”

Minseok pauses, and he looks so sad. Junmyeon feels his chest get all that much heavier for it. 

_‘How are you? Please tell me the truth.’_

And he looks too earnest, too gentle, too understanding despite his pain, that Junmyeon cannot lie to him.

His eyes sting, and he admits to him in a way he couldn’t admit to Yixing, or even his own parents, “I’m heartbroken, for you. I, I never wanted to see you like that. You don’t deserve to be hurt like this. It’s all so cruel. I want to take any pain you’re feeling, take it far away from you. I, I’ll take it myself if I have to-”

At this, Minseok reaches up, touching his face, gently thumbing his tears away. Junmyeon hadn’t even realized he’d let the tears fall. He feels his throat choke up.

_‘It’s okay.’_

“I really wish it was,” Junmyeon says.

Minseok breathes slowly, and he types again. _‘I love you a lot.’_

Junmyeon’s chest aches, and he knows Minseok means it in the way he always has; that of a precious friendship, the gentlest, warmest friend, treasured and for life. But Junmyeon takes it, still, lets it calm his heart. 

_‘I don’t want to make you do anything you might be uncomfortable with. You can tell me no,’_ Minseok is typing. _‘But I think it will ease your mind if you talk to someone. Even just once.’_

Junmyeon is hesitant, but Minseok is more patient than he deserves. And, it’s clear to him, that he’ll do it, for himself, for both of them, when he reads Minseo’s next message, knowing he’s made up his mind.

_‘I want to be here for you too, in the ways I can.’_

.

He goes a few days later, when Minseok’s family takes over watching him. 

Do Kyungsoo had come very highly recommended. When Junmyeon walks into the office, he didn’t quite expect to see someone who he’s sure is younger than him. Bright, wide-eyed behind a pair of thick-rimmed spectacles, and a gentle, kind smile, and his tone low but warm as he greets him, “Hello, Junmyeon. Is it alright if I call you that?”

“I. Yeah, of course,” he says, feeling a little out of sorts, but he takes the seat he’s directed to, Kyungsoo gathering a notebook and pen as he takes the seat in front of him. “Um, what should I call you, then?”

“You can call me Kyungsoo, if that’s what’s comfortable for you,” he says, smiling still. 

Junmyeon isn’t so sure if he _is,_ but he supposes if he’s going to be telling him about his worries, some things he doesn’t think he’ll ever tell Minseok, then maybe. It might be a good idea to get comfortable, soon. 

Still.

“I hope you don’t mind me taking down some notes?” Kyungsoo asks, and Junmyeon shakes his head, although it’s a little strange. That someone is taking down notes on his thoughts, that someone is helping him analyze the way he’s feeling, maybe help him get a little air to breathe. It’s not unwanted, it’s just what it is. Strange. “I’ve also reviewed your forms. I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I’m sorry for what happened. It was really very shocking, for so many of us.”

“Yes, thank you,” Junmyeon says. He clasps his hands together tightly on his lap, not really knowing what to do with them. He doesn’t know what to do, at all, really. 

“I know this might be a lot, but,could you walk me back to what happened? And what you felt, more of?” Kyungsoo asks gently, and Junmyeon swallows. 

He doesn’t know if he’s ready. He’d put it down on the paper, and he’s sure Kyungsoo is more than aware of what had transpired that night. He didn’t know that they would be getting straight to it, the first few minutes he’d gotten here and met him.

He breathes, and he tells him, slowly. The most vivid memories of the night, of coming too after the crash, of Baekhyun’s face greeting him. The confusion and blankness and relief of being alive that didn’t linger. The pain, the anger. 

Seeing Minseok on the ground, the fear, the instant mourning he had felt when he had gotten to his knees, holding Minseok’s cold hand in his. 

The blankness of waiting, waiting for any kind of news, for _something_ to happen. The pain, and then, the relief. Then, hurt, again.

He says it all, keeps talking, until he realizes his face is wet and his throat is slightly dry, and Kyungsoo sits patiently, his gaze empathetic and steering Junmyeon to the words he feels like he’s missing, seamless, quiet. He offers him tissues to wipe his face with, and Junmyeon takes a moment, thanking him quietly with a nod as he’s given a cup of water to ease his throat. 

It’s quiet for several moments, the words and emotions hanging in the air between them. It already feels like it’s too much, but Junmyeon knows there’s _more._ More he needs to say, more Kyungsoo needs to hear. 

“It’s a lot to feel,” Kyungsoo says eventually. “You’ve been through too much. The both of you.”

“It _hurts,”_ Junmyeon says. He breathes, breathes again. “I, I’ve never seen him like that. The way he looked so deflated, so hurt. Broken down by things he couldn’t control. Minseok is _strong,_ he’d always been the stronger one between the two of us, physically, mentally. It was crushing to see him that way.”

“Broken?” Kyungsoo asks him gently.

Junmyeon trembles. “Like. I saw it in his eyes. The way they seemed like the fight had gone out of them. Like he’d given up, even for just a moment. He’d never been like that.”

“That must have been hard for you, too. Everything that happened, and everything that happened to him. It must have hurt you, seeing him like that,” Kyungsoo asks him, and Junmyeon stills. 

It _had_ been hard, but. He’d pushed it aside, mostly, because. Minseok needed him to be strong more than he needed him hurt. But, Minseok himself brought it up with him, that he had so _much_ heaviness in his chest from everything that had happened. He says honestly, “Yes. It really did.”

Kyungsoo looks at him intently, “A little bit like, you were feeling a bit of the pain he had been going through?”

Junmyeon breathes. “Yes.”

Kyungsoo gives him a kind smile, says, “Then. Surely, you can gain a bit of strength from him, too?”

Junmyeon looks at him, feeling like his chest had been stabbed with realization.

_‘I want to be here for you, in the ways I can.’_

“You mentioned that he’ll be going to see people,” Kyungsoo continues, “That, however little or obvious the steps might be, like seeing a specialist to help him regain his ability to walk, or seeing someone to help him find his voice again. Or even seeing someone like me, to guide him through the aftermath of everything. Those are all still decisions he’s making for himself to get to somewhere better. Resigning yourself to a future where those things might not be possible is a lot more tempting than people realize, especially after having a life as lively as I’m sure yours was. He’s doing his best.”

“Yes, he is,” Junmyeon says. He’s crying again, but. It’s in pure, fierce pride. That Minseok is strong enough to do these things, pull himself to move forward. Helping him move forward, too. “I, I think that’s why I’m here, talking to you. He gave me that push.”

Kyungsoo smiles, so kind. “That’s a treasure, to have someone like that. A partner, who gives as much as he receives. He must be precious to you.”

And Junmyeon, he really can’t help it. He can’t stop crying, feeling his chest ache on and on, the flow of tears making him pause and breathe slowly, because. He feels it all, so _much._ “He’s the most precious, in my life. We’ve been through _so much.”_

He cries still, calming himself slowly, and Kyungsoo waits patiently, waving off his apologies, telling him it’s okay. 

He doesn’t know if he’s okay. While the relief of being listened to, of unloading his thoughts and worries one by one makes his head feel a little clearer, his chest a little lighter, it’s still. So _much._

“Can I ask you something?” Kyungsoo asks him after Junmyeon’s breathing becomes quiet, much more calm. When Junmyeon nods, he asks him, “Are you afraid of what tomorrow, of what the _future_ might bring? Does it seem uncertain to you?”

It’s not a question. “I worry everyday,” he says. He breathes slowly, willing himself to hold in his tears, but he’s not quite so successful. “I worry if he’ll ever really be content with not being able to do the things he used to do. I worry that physical therapy won’t be enough, that he’ll keep on wanting to do what he wants to do and I worry about the heartbreak it will lead to when he realizes he can’t. I worry, _so much,_ about his voice. About, about him speaking, or. Or anything. I worry it might crush him. I just. I know we’re done, as a group. And I’m okay with it. I just, I want to take his pain away, keep it to myself if I have to.”

He exhales, hard. Kyungsoo gives him a gentle look, “You must love him so much, to feel that way.”

And Junmyeon, he really _does._ And he doesn’t know if Kyungsoo can tell how deep his words are ringing, but Junmyeon doesn’t quite care anymore. He _loves_ Minseok, and these past weeks have really shown him that he will, for life. That despite it all, that no matter what happens, he’d still choose to be here, helping him, making him smile, and it would be enough for him. Just to see him happy.

He cries, breaks down even harder, unable to speak. He knows he might feel a twinge of embarrassment, but right now, all he can think about is how _freeing_ it all is.

“It’s alright, Junmyeon,” Kyungsoo says.

But Junmyeon doesn’t really _know,_ if it is. He doesn’t really know, because as strong as Minseok is, as strong as he pretends to be, himself, everything is just so _unsure._ “I. I think I’m just realizing it now, that. That I don’t have my partner anymore. He’s alive, and that’s what’s important, but. I hate that I’m even thinking of this, because it doesn’t matter when Minseok almost died, but. I can’t have him in that way anymore. We’re done.”

“It’s alright to be scared.”

“I’m not just scared,” Junmyeon says. Shame fills his chest as he admits, “I. I feel so _selfish,_ because I want those people to hurt, but I can’t face them. I’m afraid of what I would do if I ever see the people who did this to him. And, I can’t help but feel _sad,_ because EX-ES is _my life._ I don’t know what to do, moving forward.”

He pauses, breathing hard. His breath shudders, and the pause is silent as he breaks into a new wave of tears, even more painful than the last. 

“I _hate_ that I’m okay. That I can walk and I don’t need a tube to assist in my speech like Minseok will, maybe for the rest of his life. I feel so _undeserving_ of it all, when he’s hurting so much, when he’s always been the stronger one, between the two of us. I am _so thankful_ he’s alive. But, I don’t know why I’m still _mourning.”_

“You would naturally feel a sense of loss, after everything,” Kyungsoo tells him in the kindest tone, the most understanding voice. “You’re valid for feeling that way.”

“I just. I don’t want to see him like this,” he says. He feels himself shake as he goes on, “If I could, I’d take it all for myself instead. I’ll take the pain.”

“Junmyeon. It’s not your responsibility to bear the pain alone, you know,” Kyungsoo says. He’s patient as he tries to make him understand. “But, it’s easy to see where you’re coming from. But I need to tell you that whatever happened, the fact that the aftermath is so vastly different for the both of you, that’s beyond your control. And it’s _not your fault._ It’s understandable to want to alleviate his pain by taking it on yourself, make it yours instead, because you love him.”

It touches a nerve. Junmyeon crumples, needing to say it out loud, tell _somebody,_ “I love him. I _love_ him. I have for years.”

He cries when the words leave his lips, and it’s not quite relief, but. It’s an elephant’s foot lifting slightly off his chest, giving him room to breathe after so _long_ of keeping it to himself. 

It’s lightness, and pain, altogether.

Kyungsoo smiles at him, understanding, and knowing. 

“You’re very brave, Junmyeon,” he’s told. 

“It doesn’t feel like it,” he says to himself. 

“You are,” Kyungsoo says. “I don’t know about the history you two have. I don’t know what your past, what you’ve lived through together. But I think, even though you’ve been telling yourself that everything is okay, you needed it to be told to you.”

Junmyeon draws in a sharp breath. He exhales, and closes his eyes. 

“It’s natural to want affirmation,” Kyungsoo continues slowly. “I don’t know if you want it from me, or from someone else, or from Minseok. But, allow me to say, you’re doing well. You’ve been doing really well. It’s normal to feel the way you’re feeling. And it will be okay.”

The tears fall. He cannot tell if they’re in relief, in pain, or something between, immense and overwhelming but uplifting but heavy. 

He breathes, breathes again. 

.

Months pass, and progress is slow, but it’s still progress.

Minseok had been discharged after a little more than a month in the hospital, though he continued to receive out-patient care. His parents ended up moving into his apartment for the time being, helping take care of him as he recovered and went to the different doctors and therapists that would help him pull his life together. Junmyeon had been there all the while, helping him settle back in, bringing him to the hospitals and clinics, sometimes getting him food and anything else he needed. 

Junmyeon goes to Kyungsoo still, almost every week. He had cried, still a few sessions after the first. But, eventually, it tapers off. He still feels the pains in his chest, and his sleeping schedule is hopeless to track, but he’s getting there. 

It had been an unspoken agreement, between them, that whatever they talk about at therapy is just theirs to keep. Minseok doesn’t ask, and Junmyeon doesn’t ask him, either. Junmyeon, as much as he had wanted to be there for him physically, had respected Minseok’s request, that he go to his speech therapy sessions, and, eventually, after another month of returning to the hospital for a second surgery to remove some of the rods, after the wait of having his ribs heal slowly on their own, and a few weeks more weeks of living with the cast, it’s removed, and he begins rehabilitation. 

It’s been several sessions since then, and today, Junmyeon comes along with him, as he usually does, and he makes to wait in the lobby, as he usually does, but. Minseok takes his hand, eyes slightly shaking but bright. 

“What is it?” he asks, coming down next to his wheelchair so they can see each other properly. 

He watches the way Minseok physically swallows, opens his mouth, only to close it again. He makes a huffed noise of frustration, and Junmyeon holds his hand a little tighter; Minseok had made _amazing_ progress, pushing himself to become more accustomed to the trach in his neck, and as Minseok tends to do, he does well even in this. It had taken barely a session before he was used to breathing with the tube in his throat, and he had been making sounds sooner than anyone had expected.

But. Speaking comfortably, stringing more words together, it’s still too far off. Junmyeon is so fiercely _proud,_ still, but Minseok seems to only see where he falls short. It breaks his heart, slowly.

“What do you want me to do?” Junmyeon asks him gently, patiently, and Minseok closes his eyes, eyebrows furrowed in clear frustration, but he breathes out slowly, gathering himself. He looks so _tired,_ so _beaten down,_ and Junmyeon isn’t used to this, at all.

He feels so _useless,_ but he holds tighter. Remembers Kyungsoo telling him, _“You might feel like you’re not doing enough, but you can’t linger on that thought. You’re not useless, just because you can’t seem to solve all the problems that seem to come. It’s always one thing at a time.”_

Minseok takes a moment to answer, but he pulls on Junmyeon’s hand, and looks at the door that goes into the therapist’s office. Junmyeon looks at him, and asks, “Do you want me to go with you?”

Minseok looks back at him. His eyes are shining, his mouth set in a small line as he nods minutely. And Junmyeon sees it, the way he’s _trying,_ trying so hard, but sometimes. He needs the push, the encouragement, and for Minseok to ask in of itself is something of an effort for him to do, because Junmyeon _knows_ him. Minseok had always been one to be independent, to guide and lead himself through life, to not want to burden others with his own troubles.

But he’s asking. And Junmyeon will be there for him in all the ways he can.

He nods, smiling for him, and he stands again, wheeling him in through the door, and into the therapist’s office.

“Good morning, Minnie - oh, good morning,” the therapist is standing then, bowing politely. He’s tall, young, maybe about Jongin’s age, and he knows they must be friends. “I’m Sehun.”

“Hello, I’m Junmyeon,” he introduces himself, and he bows in turn slightly, looking at Minseok. _‘Minnie.’_ Not very many people call Minseok so comfortably, but, then again, he reminds himself that with the weeks he had been coming in, they were bound to become quite close, or in the very least, comfortable with each other. 

And he knows Minseok. He has a hard time with doctors, has a hard time in such formal situations. With something as personal as regaining his speech, or his ability to walk, Junmyeon can tell he prefers it this way. He sees it in the way Minseok’s expression softens, still a little frustrated at himself, but it calms slightly at the sight of Sehun’s kind smile, unrushed and friendly, and. 

Junmyeon swallows, feeling uncomfortable with the thoughts in his head. How comfortable they seem with each other, how Minseok doesn’t flinch away, and even looks encouraged, when Sehun comes down in front of him, setting his hands gently on Minseok’s knees. Junmyeon is suddenly filled with so much stupid, unreasonable, almost illogic _jealousy._

He makes himself get over it in a moment, hating himself for even thinking any of it. 

He’s here because Minseok asked him to. He’s here for him, regardless of whatever the future holds for them. He will be here, now, and he will be a good friend, because his feelings don’t matter, now. They are the last priority. 

“How have you been feeling?” Sehun is asking Minseok warmly, and Minseok sighs. Sehun understands, telling him, “It’s okay, Minseok. Don’t be discouraged. You’ve been doing really well.”

And the session feels very long, and very short, all at the same time. Junmyeon sears himself along the wall, watching as Sehun works with Minseok, guiding his limbs carefully in the different exercises, and as young as Sehun looks, it’s easily evident that he’s good at what he does. He’s encouraging, patient, unfailing as he helps Minseok move, stand up from a seated position again and again, getting the limb used to a little mobility after months of stiffness in the cast, and Junmyeon watches on, hoping he’s of any use, of any true support to Minseok as he works hard to get himself walking again.

Minseok is strong. Always has been. But, Junmyeon sees it, the way that today is just not a great day, that despite all the effort and progress Sehun tells him he’s made, he’s not where he wants to be, personally. He’s not meeting his own goals and Junmyeon sees how discouraged he is by it, how he balls his hands up into fists, disappointed in himself.

“You’re doing great, Minseok,” Sehun says, reassuring him as he pauses mid-step, breathing slowly, eyes closed. Junmyeon sees the frustration build up in him, and he wants, so desperately, to tell him that _‘You’re doing so well. You’ve been so strong. I hope you know it.’_

The session ends with Minseok managing to walk his way over to Sehun through the path, unassisted aside from the bars on either side of him, and Sehun grins at him, patting his cheek by the end of it and emphasizing how well he’s done and Junmyeon watches, feeling emotional and full of pride. 

Minseok is frowning, however, mostly to himself as he and Junmyeon leave to go to the company to have a meal in the cafeteria before they make their way to the speech therapist. Before, they didn’t quite eat here often, though the food is good, mostly because they were so busy, and most of their meals were brought to them instead in the practice rooms, in between schedules, sometimes even en route to wherever they would be going. But, after the accident, after having to go to several therapists and trying to find a pace that suited them, things have slowed.

Junmyeon has found that their beef stew is delicious. It tastes very close to what his own mother would make. It seems like a mundane discovery, but it becomes a comfort, a little, inconsequential thing to look forward to when they come to eat during the days of good progress, or little progress. 

And here, Minseok is a little more comfortable. A little less guarded, and feels safe enough that he can have his soups and broths and not be stared at or asked why he won’t have a try of the kimchi, or tofu stew, or grilled meat, or whatever solid food is being served for the day. The people here know him, and they _get it._ And they don’t treat him any differently. 

It feels like another small miracle. Junmyeon is thankful for all of them. 

Junmyeon looks at him in the quiet lull of just having finished his meal, Minseok having finished much earlier, his bowl of soup long dry. He sees the way Minseok is staring out of the floor to ceiling windows, his hand near his throat, the turtleneck he’s wearing hiding the tube and the speaking valve he’s still getting used to. 

It’s all he’s been wearing, these days. Collars high enough to hide his neck, or scarves, so many of them, loosely tied around his throat to conceal the evidence of his injury.

Junmyeon watches him. Asks him in a quiet voice, “Min? Are you okay?”

Minseok looks at him, blinking slowly, before he nods. 

“You did well today,” Junmyeon tells him, smiling a little. “You’ve been doing so, so great. Thank you for letting me come today.”

Minseok’s eyes shake a little, and his mouth tenses slightly. He swallows with a little effort, and he tries to speak. Manages, “Doesn’t, doesn’t fee-”

He stops, looking sad, and Junmyeon can feel his disappointment. His eyes sting, but he holds it in, waits and watches as Minseok brings out his phone, typing in, _‘It doesn’t feel like it. I thought I would be walking again by now. It’s been months.’_

Junmyeon feels his chest ache for him, and he says, “You’ve been doing really well, Min. You can’t rush or push yourself too much. You’ve had so much progress and even if it seems slow to you, it’s still _something.”_

Minseok looks at him thoughtfully. He still looks a little down, but Junmyeon sees him trying. He waits as he types out his reply on his phone, and Junmyeon doesn’t quite expect, or know what to feel, when he reads, _‘Sehun always says that too.’_

He swallows, thinking of what to say, settling with, “You seem very comfortable with him.”

Minseok makes a face, the same face he seems to make a lot with either Baekhyun or Chanyeol, a reluctantly fond expression, says, _‘He’s been treating me like a friend. He got too comfortable too quickly, but to be honest, it does help lift my mood a lot.’_

“You must like him, then,” Junmyeon asks him. 

Minseok looks at him for a long time. His eyes are wet, and he types carefully, _‘He’s been really understanding and supportive. Like you have. Like too many people have been.’_

Even through the phone, it sounds apologetic, embarrassed, and Junmyeon wants to stop him there. Wants him to not let this settle in his heart this way, to feel _bad_ about having so many people just rearrange their lives to accommodate his new normal, when Junmyeon wouldn’t think twice about helping him in any way he can. Nobody would think twice, when it comes to Minseok.

But even before Junmyeon can refute him, Minseok is typing again. When he shows the screen to him, Junmyeon doesn’t miss the way his fingers seem to twitch slightly. _‘You’re always with me.’_

Junmyeon pauses. “Do you. Not want me to be?”

Minseok’s eyes go wide, and he shakes his head, fingers shaking slightly as he types as fast as he can, _‘No, I do. It’s just that I know you don’t have to be. You could be moving on and living your life but you’re here, helping me instead even though there’s better use for your time.’_

Junmyeon’s heart breaks. He looks down, and his eyes fill with wetness, but he holds it in, breathing slowly. It hurts, that Minseok thinks of himself this way. That he would think that being here for him is a waste of time for Junmyeon, when it’s the furthest thing from the truth. Junmyeon would do _anything_ for him, regardless of what they were. Of what they will be. 

He loves him. This is how he shows it. This is how he knows it’s true. 

_‘You support me so much and I wonder a lot about it. Am I holding you back from something better? You don’t have to stay with me, you don’t have to watch me struggle so much. You’re so patient with me, and you never judge me for my shortcomings. It must be such a burden to you. I’m sorry.’_

Junmyeon wants to cry. “No, I. I want to, I want to be here for you. I feel like, like I’m the one gaining strength from _you._ You’ve been working so hard, and you’re so, _so brave.”_

Minseok’s eyes shine. _‘I’m not brave.’_

“You really are,” Junmyeon says, and he reaches over. He touches Minseok’s hand, and Minseok opens his palm easily, so their fingers lacing together. “I don’t want you to think that you're not. You _are,_ and I won’t get tired of telling you.”

Minseok looks at him, and he looks near tears himself. _‘Why do you stay with me? Why do you do all this with me?’_

Junmyeon’s breath catches in his throat. He looks at Minseok, sees him look so _vulnerable,_ but trusting him, tired but still trying, and. Junmyeon can’t lie to him, or hide it from him anymore.

“Because I love you,” he says quietly, simply in the empty hall. 

Minseok’s eyes go wide, and he opens his mouth. Junmyeon sees his lips move, mouthing his name, _‘Junmyeon,’_ and he understands. 

Junmyeon understands. His heart falls a little, but it’s okay. 

He’s not sad. He’s not heartbroken. Minseok is still holding his hand, and his tears fall down his cheeks. He doesn’t move away when Junmyeon leans forward a bit to wipe his cheeks, and Junmyeon understands. And it’s okay, it’s okay.

“I have for years,” he tells him. He smiles, and it hurts, but mostly. It’s freeing. It feels selfish, and he sighs to himself, saying, “I’m sorry, Minnie.”

Minseok shakes his head. His hand trembles as he types, retypes, and he gives up, looking up at Junmyeon, and saying hoarsely, tightly, “You don’t need to be.”

Junmyeon gives him a small smile, but he knows he needs to. He knows it’s not fair of him, to do this now. To do this in the situation they’re in. “It became another thing you had to burden yourself with. I’m sorry for making your head fuller. You already have a lot on your mind as it is.”

Minseok’s mouth wobbles slightly, and he tries to say, “I, I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay,” Junmyeon tells him. He smiles, and Minseok shakes as he wipes his tears away, and he looks at Junmyeon, just. Junmyeon can’t read him.

He’d always thought he could, but now.

“Junmyeon,” Minseok mouths, and he cries silently, struggling with his breath.

Junmyeon leans forward, holding him. Wanting him to breathe easy, and he’s at peace with it all. “Don’t worry about it. It’s enough for me to be here, for you. Supporting you, with everything I have.”

Minseok cries, and Junmyeon can _feel_ that he wants to say more, wants to say _anything,_ but they need to go to the speech therapist. It’s quiet as they make their way to the clinic, and Junmyeon tries to make it as not-awkward as he can. Minseok keeps looking at him when he thinks Junmyeon doesn’t notice, and looking away when he does, and it’s not so much as heavy as it is _unsure._ He doesn’t know what to do with it, but Minseok is reaching out suddenly. He holds his hand, and this is enough. 

Jongdae is as kind a person as Junmyeon had ever met. His voice is gentle and tender and patient and he smiles at Junmyeon asking him as he usually does, “Will you be staying?”

Junmyeon opens his mouth, ready to decline as he always does and make his way out to wait in the lobby, because as important as getting his legs back to being able to move is, regaining his voice is so much more personal. Junmyeon had always wanted to respect Minseok’s journey back to it, let it be _his,_ and just his, so he usually leaves and waits somewhere for him, but. Today, Minseok is taking his hand, stopping him before he can leave.

Junmyeon blinks, looks at him. Minseok looks up at him, his hand trembling in his, but he pushes himself to say, “I, I want you here. Please.”

And. Junmyeon’s chest feels so _tight,_ then, almost unbearable with the surge of emotions that makes it sting, so _painful_ but important. “Are you sure?” he has to ask.

Minseok nods, “Yes. I am.”

Junmyeon’s breath shudders, but he nods in turn, and smiles, and it feels like an _honor._ He feels trusted, he feels like he’s not as useless as he’d been. Another gentle miracle, and he treasures it so much.

Jongdae smiles for him, and he directs Junmyeon over to a chair he can use. Jongdae is patient, professional and endlessly kind as he guides Minseok through the exercises, so many of them, but he does them all without complaint, even seeming eager to get to the harder exercises. 

Minseok works _so hard,_ maybe even harder than he had earlier with the PT, but it shows for itself. He breathes, he makes all the noises, he says all the letters and words and vowels and consonants and pronounces everything he’s told, and Junmyeon feels like crying. 

It’s so, _so important._ He feels it, today, that Minseok is _refusing_ to not improve. He’s refusing to not take his life back for himself. 

Junmyeon loves him, _so much._ And it’s a privilege, to be trusted this way, to be wanted here with him as he works through the difficulties, through the awkwardness and discomfort of the speaking valve and the tube, until it becomes another part of him. 

He makes massive, massive progress by the end of the few hours their session provides. Jongdae is smiling, praising him gently with every word he utters, each harder than the last, until Minseok is stringing more words together. 

His voice is low, not quite the same as it had been before, a little softer, the sound tighter, much rougher, but it’s _him,_ it’s him still, Junmyeon feels a chill running through his body.

He didn’t know if he would ever hear him this way again. It’s almost surreal. 

“Great, great work, Minseok,” Jongdae tells him, smiling. His eyes crinkle, and Minseok breathes slowly. Then, he’s crying, and Junmyeon stands immediately, coming over to him, holding him. 

Minseok cries, sobs, overwhelmed. He still has quite a bit to go, and they both know it, but when Minseok says in his voice, stronger than it had been before, “Junmyeon. Myeonnie,” it feels like it’s _everything._

“You’ve done so _well,”_ Junmyeon tells him, breathes with him. Minseok holds him that much tighter, breath shuddering. It sounds, feels different, but it’s there. It’s there.

“I didn’t get to say it earlier,” Minseok says, struggles through and persists. “You mean _so much_ to me.”

Junmyeon closes his eyes as he begins to cry. He’s been crying so much, these past months, but it’s different, now.

It feels like peace, and acceptance. 

He loves him even more. He always will.

“I don’t think I’d be here without you,” Minseok says, and. Somehow, without even meaning to, it quells so many fears Junmyeon had been harboring in his chest, gives him relief and air to breathe and comfort, so much of it. 

He holds on tighter, and Minseok clings in turn, telling him, “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Min,” he says, and he’d been wrong. 

This, this is _more_ than enough. 

.

It goes this way for the next few weeks. He accompanies him to his different therapy sessions, sometimes sitting in, other times leaving to give Minseok a little more privacy when he looks like he needs it.

But, it’s a comfort, bolstering his soul, to know that Minseok wants him with him, more often than not. 

Things didn’t quite change, after Junmyeon had told what he had felt, as they did shift into something of an understanding. An understanding, that no matter what happens, Minseok will always have him, and Junmyeon will always be the most important person in his life.

It’s the same, but also, feels _so much more_ important, now. It’s good.

Today, they’re back in the PT center, and Minseok had been making _great_ progress. He’d been using crutches lately, having stopped using the chair a week ago, and Junmyeon had known this. Had known that it wouldn’t be long until Minseok would be walking almost normally again, but it’s still _something_ to see it, see him working _so hard_ and doing _so well._

Junmyeon watches _proudly,_ chest searing with joy as he watches Minseok go through the exercises with ease, even breezing through the most difficult instructions Sehun gives him, and even Jongin, who’d come to visit and check in on Minseok’s progress personally, is looking impressed, beaming widely and full of joy as Minseok stands, moves, _walks._

By the end of it, Minseok is walking towards Sehun, arms firmly at his sides, hands never touching the railing to support him.

Junmyeon could _cry._

Jongin actually does, his face wet but his mouth set in a grin as he comes forward to embrace Minseok in a celebratory hug, _“Hyung!_ Hyung, you _did it-”_

And Minseok is laughing, like he can’t believe it, and he holds Jongin back, and Junmyeon watches them, his eyes filming over slightly as he takes it in. He’s so absorbed in it, he doesn’t notice Sehun slinking over next to him, startles when he says, “He did well, didn’t he?”

Junmyeon looks at him, but he just replies, “More than.”

Sehun hums, nodding, and they watch Jongin and Minseok laughing together, Jongin poking at Minseok’s cheeks as he begins to cry, smiling still, and Junmyeon _aches_ to go to him, pull him into an embrace, but Sehun is saying, “He works hard, always. Like, I’ve never seen someone with so much _determination._ If he could have made himself walk by willpower alone on that first day, he would have.”

And, it really does sound like him. Junmyeon smiles, too _proud._ “He would, if he could.”

Sehun hums again, glancing at him, “You’re not here to see it sometimes so you wouldn’t know, but. When you’re here, he’s just. So much _more_ motivated, it’s a little scary.”

Junmyeon looks at him. He blinks, and Sehun is giving him a face, and he knows instantly it’s the face Minseok had described. Like he’s about to cause inner turmoil on purpose, the way Baekhyun and Chanyeol do.

“What do you mean?” Junmyeon asks despite himself. His heart is in his throat.

“When you’re here, he works so much harder,” Sehun says, and Junmyeon can’t imagine Minseok working any less harder. He wouldn’t, just because Junmyeon is there. “It’s like he wants to show you, he can do it.”

“I, I think he just to prove it, and having someone else there can be a good motivator for him,” and it’s true. Minseok works hard for himself, but he’d work harder for anyone. He worked hard in the beginning for his parents, then for the group, then for the fans, then for the company. Junmyeon isn’t that special in that regard. 

“Well. Yes,” Sehun says, but he’s looking at Junmyeon as if he can’t believe he’s being dense about this. Dense about _what,_ Junmyeon doesn’t know. “But, it’s like he’s gaining strength from you, being here. Pushing him forward.”

Junmyeon doesn’t pause. “He’d do that with anyone.”

“You don’t get it,” Sehun says, looking a little exasperated, like he _can’t_ believe Junmyeon isn’t following him. “It was clear from the beginning that he wanted to walk again, and fast. But, whenever you’re around, it’s like he wants to do it, to walk for _both of you.”_

Junmyeon stares at him. 

He looks at Minseok, who’s walking past the railings towards Jongin, grinning and laughing when he makes it to him, Jongin praising him anew, and. It’s _his_ win, and Junmyeon isn’t privy to share in that. Minseok talking, walking, gaining a bit of his own life, it’s not for him to win. 

“He’s doing it for you, too,” Sehun continues, “because you believe in him more than he believes in himself.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Junmyeon says instantly. It can’t be true. 

“Hmm,” Sehun hums, watching him. “It’s just what I’ve been observing with him, for the past month. I can’t claim to know exactly what he’s feeling. No one can. But it’s not like he isn’t more or less open, with what he feels.”

Junmyeon swallows, “Well. He seems comfortable enough with you to show you, is all. It’s nothing to do with what he feels about me.”

Sehun pauses, gives him _a look._ “Are you jealous of me?”

“Maybe I am,” Junmyeon says under his breath to get him to stop talking. He pauses, realizing what he’d slip out, and he knows he can’t take it back, because it’s _true._

He and Minseok are _good._ He is happy, wherever Minseok is happy. 

But it won’t stop the sting of _what if,_ when Minseok eventually finds someone who will love him more than Junmyeon does, even if Junmyeon knows that person exists.

But it doesn’t matter if he loves Minseok the most. What matters is who Minseok will love, and while Junmyeon knows Minseok has love for him, it’s not the same. And _it’s okay._

Sehun looks at him, and he smirks. Smug, like he knows more than Junmyeon does. “Don’t be. It’s nothing like it is when he’s with you.”

Junmyeon stares at him. “What do you mean?”

“If he’s comfortable with me,” Sehun starts, “Then to him, _you’re home.”_

The words don’t seem to sink in. They don’t seem to be _for him._

Junmyeon can’t believe him. Can’t tell himself that when Minseok’s eyes meet his, his expression going so _tender_ and vulnerable, his eyes shining as he makes his way towards Junmyeon, unaided, barely a hitch in his step as he comes up to him, crying and letting the tears fall as he settles against Junmyeon’s chest. He can’t believe it, even though it’s what it feels like, so full of light and tears himself as he holds Minseok, chest battered with it.

.

Junmyeon helps him settle back in his apartment after Chanyeol drops them off for the day. Minseok can’t walk very long distance without help, but he he relies on the crutches less and less, and Junmyeon barely needs to do anything as Minseok gets himself ready for bed, using the bathroom with little trouble, cleaning out his trach tube with even less, having gotten used to it. Just another part of his daily routine now, really.

When he had been discharged, he’d been told that having a nurse around might be a possibility, but Junmyeon knew what Minseok’s answer would be even before he’d given it. 

_‘I’d like to do it myself,’_ he had types. He’d looked scared, uncertain of the future, but so, _so determined._ So, he had been instructed and taught, and Junmyeon had watched, so should the time arise that Minseok would need help, he could. 

Thus far, he’d given him a hand it with, once, when Minseok had first been discharged and settled back into his apartment. Minseok’s parents had been sleeping, and Junmyeon had given him a hand with it when Minseok couldn’t get up to do it. He’d looked embarrassed about it, but Junmyeon had just given him a small smile, rubbing the furrow between his eyebrows, telling him, _“Don’t be. It’s okay. It’s me.”_

Since Sehun’s words earlier, he’s beginning to think that maybe, _maybe,_ who he is to Minseok has become something else. 

He’s seeing it now.

 _It’s me,_ and then the steady rise and fall of Minseok’s chest, the softening of his gaze, the trust lining his face clearly.

He doesn’t want to read too much into something he knows isn’t there, but. 

“Myeonnie,” Minseok comes back to the room, dressed for bed, the trach and speaking valve in place, no scarf or high collar to cover them. Minseok’s voice is raspy, tired as he asks, “Did you want something to drink?”

Junmyeon looks at him, and he swallows, saying, “I’m good. I, I think I’ll get going? Let you have your rest.”

He sees the way Minseok’s face falls slightly, and he doesn’t know what to make of it. Still, Minseok shuffles forward as Junmyeon leans in to pull him into a hug, warm, making him feel like he’s glowing, the light radiating from his chest, and maybe, there is some truth to what Sehun had said. 

_This_ is home for Junmyeon. 

He doesn’t know if it really is the same, for Minseok.

“Junmyeon,” Minseok’s voice is soft, raspy. His tone is tender, a sigh lacing the syllables of Junmyeon’s name, and Junmyeon leans back, sees Minseok looking at him with a soft, poignant gaze. 

Junmyeon sees the world in him.

Minseok leans in, and his lips meet Junmyeon’s, and Junmyeon is so instantly overwhelmed with how _wonderful, tender_ it feels, he doesn’t even have it in him to be stunned that _Minseok is kissing him._

Minseok is warm, his mouth is soft, and his touch is pulling him in, making him feel lit up from the inside, glowing embers curling around his heart and making his chest feel tight with _wonder,_ beautiful and kind and making itself home, like he’s where he needs to be. 

He kisses him in turn, deepens the touch, breathing with Minseok and feeling it all. Minseok licks into his mouth, and Junmyeon licks back, tasting him, tasting _home._

Minseok holds him, and Junmyeon holds him in turn. The moment swells, wonderful, lingering, the touch of their lips feeling like a new song that Junmyeon knows he’ll treasure and listen to for life, the sound and notes settling into his skin, new but instantly familiar, instantly loved. 

They pull back, Minseok’s breathing a little shallow, Junmyeon opening his eyes, and when they look at each other, Junmyeon realizes that despite how his chest feels light with joy, he can’t do this. Can’t be this selfish to Minseok.

“Why’d you do that?” he asks him. 

Minseok’s face falls a little, as if he wasn’t expecting Junmyeon to look at him this way. That he’d be pushed away. “Because I wanted to,” he says, voice raspy and tired and soft, and Junmyeon catches his confusion.

Junmyeon swallows, looking at him carefully, and tells him, “You, um. If this is because of what I told you, that time. About how I felt about you, it’s. I meant it when I said I’m okay with us staying the same. You don’t need to feel pressured to do this, to return my feelings.”

Minseok’s eyes are filmed with a shine, sad, slightly hurt, even. “But what if I do? If I feel the same?”

“Maybe,” Junmyeon says, needing to be clear, to be as careful as he can be, “It’s just. I’m, I’m always here, and you’ve been lonely. It would only be natural for you to-”

“Why are you telling me what to feel?” Minseok says, eyebrows furrowed as he pulls away from Junmyeon, hurt by what he’s saying, and _fuck._ Junmyeon looks at him, trying to be reasonable, but Minseok continues, “Why are you explaining? Do you know what I really feel?”

“It’s just, you don’t need to. Just because I do,” Junmyeon says, and Minseok shakes his head at him. 

“What if I’m telling you that _I do?”_ he says, lips trembling as he works through his breathing, “I. I know you might be confused or surprised, but I really _do. I love you,_ and you don’t need to keep denying what I’m feeling or denying yourself something that we both want. I’m _here,_ I _want to love you.”_

Junmyeon breathes, and he should have known, as much as he tries to bury what he feels, or what he’s thinking, Minseok would read him. He’s always been able to. The words he’s saying are beautiful. They don’t seem like they’re for him. 

“The past months have been so much,” he starts, and Minseok is beginning to look frustrated with him. “It’s, the stress from it all is making us overly emotional.”

“And it makes how I feel about you less valid?” Minseok asks him. It’s sharp in Junmyeon’s chest. “How you stayed even though I’m _like this,_ now, how you lifted me up and made me feel like I can do _more?_ How could I not love you? Why won’t you believe me?”

“Because I know you don’t really feel that way about me,” Junmyeon says. Minseok’s eyes go wide.

“What do you know? How is this different from when _you_ told me, about what you felt?” he asks, and he looks genuinely upset. Junmyeon is berating himself silently for making Minseok look like that, for hurting him, even though he knows he can’t be selfish with this.

Minseok being in love with him, too. It’s too good to be true. 

“You didn’t say anything, when I told you,” he says. His voice shakes. “I, I thought you made yourself clear, then.”

“Because I didn’t know what to say, then,” Minseok tells him, looking earnestly at him, frustrated that he physically _can’t_ say too much, still getting used to this new facet of his life. “But I do now. I know how I feel.”

Junmyeon stares at him, unsure of how to consolidate everything he’s feeling. “And, you love me, like the way I love you?”

“And I have, maybe not as long as you, but I didn’t feel this overnight,” he says. He looks close to tears. “I’ve felt this way for a while. I just didn’t know what to call it, and then I did.”

Junmyeon wants to cry. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not,” Minseok says, his already hoarse voice breaking slightly. “Why are you saying I am?”

“Because,” Junmyeon says, just wanting to _understand._ Why now, when everything is still unsure. “You didn’t say anything before. And, when I told you, you didn’t say anything then, either.”

“Junmyeon, _look at me,”_ Minseok says, his hand coming up just short of his trach, his other hand gesturing to his still healing leg, mobile, but nothing like it had been before. There are tracks of wetness running down Minseok’s cheeks, and Junmyeon feel’s his own chest crack. “What, _what,_ do you think I would feel? I didn’t say anything because why would I want to burden you with this? I didn’t want to make you carry anymore than you already did, because of me. But, when you told me, it. It made me so _happy,_ so scared. So hopeful, despite everything. I don’t show my love like you, and I know I’m not open the way you are. I’m sorry. But, I’m trying to be open now, because you deserve it. Do, do you not feel the same way anymore?” he trails off, “Did. My reality became too much, didn’t it-”

“No, _god,_ no,” Junmyeon says, his heart breaking, thinking that Minseok would believe that he would stop feeling the way he does for him, for something as little as a hole in his neck, or the weakened state of his leg. He would _never_ stop loving him. “I _love you,_ whatever happens.”

“Then, why are you not accepting the way I feel, now?” Minseok asks him. Junmyeon had never seen him so vulnerable.

And Junmyeon, he _wants_ to accept Minseok’s love. He’s so purely _happy,_ a lightness in his chest that he wants to give in to, but. Things aren’t normal. They aren’t like they had been. “We just. We need time, to know if this is something that’s. That’s not just the trauma or the accident speaking.”

Minseok looks heartbroken. Junmyeon hates himself a little more, feels regret deep in his veins as Minseok pulls away, mumbling his goodbye, turning away. 

He knows they need this, to make sure. But it doesn’t hurt any less, making Minseok look defeated.

.

Minseok avoids him for the better part of the next week. He’d asked either Chanyeol or Baekhyun to help him get to his therapy sessions, and limited his contact with Junmyeon to messages, and Junmyeon understands. He doesn’t push, and anyway. He knows that it had been his own decision to do this, to spend some time apart to figure out where they would be going from here, and what they would do. 

Still. 

Junmyeon had spent the better part of the last decade being in love with Minseok. What had happened in the last few months had made him all that much more sure that Minseok really, _truly,_ would always be the most important person in his life. His whole life, really.

He wants to take Minseok’s love as true, and he doesn’t doubt that Minseok _does_ love him. But, he can’t be sure if this love is the kind that means Junmyeon’s is reciprocated, that Minseok is sure, that it can and will outlast the trauma that pulled them closer together. 

“Well,” Kyungsoo says, face a little blank after Junmyeon has explained what had happened, and the resulting dilemma. “Admitting you loved him outrightly, that’s quite a leap from where we had left off.”

“I know,” Junmyeon sighs, and everything, somehow, feels even more muddled than they had been before. “I just, I didn’t want to rush into anything he might have felt pressured into.”

“Why do you think he would be pressured?” Kyungsoo asks him.

“He might have been pressured to respond in some way, because I told him how I felt about him,” Junmyeon says. 

“And why did you tell him? Can you recall what was going through your mind, at that moment?” Kyungsoo asks him kindly, patiently.

Junmyeon pauses, and thinks of that moment in time. Of what he had felt, of truth building up inside him, alone. “I just, in that moment, he asked me a question. And I didn’t want to lie to him.”

Kyungsoo tilts his head slightly at him, “Do you think he’s lying to you now, then? Using you, or, this will sound harsh, but do you suppose he’s taking advantage of you?”

He swallows, and just the thought of it makes Junmyeon sick. That someone would ever imply that of Minseok. “He doesn’t lie to me. And, if he were taking advantage of what I felt, he. He wouldn’t have looked that way. Like I’d broken his heart.”

“Then why are you hesitant?”

He breathes, and reasons, “Because I know stress makes you do things you might not do in normal circumstances.”

Kyungsoo hums, “Maybe that’s why you confessed, too.”

It strikes a nerve. “Maybe.”

Kyungsoo looks at him, and he puts down his pen and notebook. He says earnestly, gently, “Do you truly think he doesn’t feel that way about you? That this happening was a consequence of stress? Have you considered, maybe, he’s gaining some bravery from you? Strength, the way you say you’ve gained from him?”

Junmyeon pauses, and he truthfully did not think of it in that way. The moment had been so quick, perfect and then cold because he couldn’t accept that maybe, _maybe, miraculously,_ Minseok _did_ love him, too, all because of his own self-doubt.

“I think, here, it’s important to acknowledge that stress can and will lead to unpredictable circumstances,” Kyungsoo says. “But your foundation is undeniably strong. While yes, you do need to acknowledge that the incident is going to continue to make both of your emotions run higher than usual, we need to understand that there’s a difference to settling for convenience’s sake or gratitude, and _actually_ acting on your feelings even when there is so much to lose, because you don’t want uncertainties.”

Junmyeon doesn’t speak still. It’s a lot to take in, and Junmyeon struggles to really make sense of it all.

Kyungoo looks at him patiently, and asks him after he stays silent, “Do you think you had a lot to lose, Junmyeon?”

For this, he doesn’t need to pause. “Of course.”

“Then, it must be the same for Minseok, as well,” he says. “He has a lot to lose, too. But, with everything he had on the line, because you gave him that bit of bravery he might have needed, he decided to accept your feelings, and share with you his own. He trusts you. I need to ask, do you trust him?”

It’s a loaded question. Junmyeon knows his answer, but he knows,. Kyungsoo isn’t the person who needs to hear it most.

So, he goes over to the rehabilitation clinic a few days later after mustering up some of his courage, and waits in the lobby, for a long time, until Minseok is walking, really _walking_ out, laughing at whatever joke Chanyeol must have said. 

He’s got another sweater on today, collar high and masking the tube in his neck, but he’s fixed his hair a bit, wearing a pair of jeans that Junmyeon had always liked on him; tight and dark and suiting him so, so well. 

Minseok sees him first, eyes going just that bit wider, expression dropping slightly as he stops in his tracks. Chanyeol looks at him, wondering why he had stilled, before he looks, and sees Junmyeon too. 

“Oh! Hyung!” he says, beaming, coming over to where Junmyeon stands still. Minseok stays where he is, watching as Chanyeol comes up to Junmyeon, bouncing a bit on his feet as he asks, “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Ah, well. Neither did Minseok,” he replies, and Minseok watches him still, staying in his spot. He looks sad, and Junmyeon breathes in, thinking about how beautiful he is. How much he would do for him.

Chanyeol blinks, and he looks between them, thinking of what to say. “Uh. So, um. What are you doing here?” he tries to keep his tone light, cheerful, and bless him, really. Junmyeon appreciates him so much, but he’s okay with a heavy atmosphere. Sometimes, it’s needed, and it just means he needs to trudge through, accepting that they have things to work through. He’s all for working things out. 

“Just wanted to see Minseok,” he says simply. Minseok looks at him still, blinking slowly, taking him in.

Chanyeol blinks too, a little more curiously, confused, unsure. “Oh, so. Um, will you be bringing him home, then?”

Junmyeon pauses. “If he wants me too.”

They stand there, awkwardly, and the seconds stretch on. He wonders then, if this is the right time, if he should have thought things through a little more. But, Minseok is coming towards him, walking, barely a hitch in his step, and he answers quietly, “Okay.”

His voice is still raspy, but there is a strength in it that hadn’t been as present, the last time they had seen each other. Junmyeon swallows, wondering just how much he had missed. How much Minseok had improved, without him knowing, all within the span of less than a week. 

He’d never doubted, that he could do it. He swallows, admitting silently to himself that it hurts more than he’d realized it would, to not see it himself.

The car ride had been initially silent. Junmyeon drives quietly, and Minseok is just as silent in the passenger seat next to him, watching the road, hands squeezed into fists on his lap. 

Minseok had always been the better driver between them. He’d always been the one to want to go drives, to be behind the wheel, and he would drive for hours, never tired of it regardless of how long the journey.

Now, though. He seems small in his seat, watching the road carefully, and it’s not as if this is the first Junmyeon had noticed of it. But, it doesn’t get any easier, knowing the accident had taken another thing that Junmyeon knew Minseok held close to his soul. 

It’s a while before he breaks the silence. Eventually, Junmyeon says, “I’m sorry.”

Minseok doesn’t turn to look at him, eyes still on the road before them. “I was really hurt. It wasn’t like I was deluded, I knew that it wouldn’t be easy, it wouldn’t be instant. I knew being together and accepting what we feel would be difficult. But, I really didn’t expect you to reject me.”

“I didn’t reject you,” Junmyeon says. His heart sinks, thinking Minseok believes that, but he knows that he certainly didn’t help things with the way he had treated him. 

“It kind of felt like it,” Minseok says. His voice sounds even smaller than he looks. 

Junmyeon’s chest stings, knowing that MInseok had worked hard to earn his voice back, only to sound so quiet in front of him. _He_ had done that to him. 

He can’t stop the shame that blooms inside him.

“I’m sorry. I just, I needed to figure things out. I just wanted to be sure.”

“Or you needed me to be sure,” Minseok says.

Junmyeon can’t say anything. Minseok isn’t wrong. It makes the shame curl around his heart a little tighter. 

Minseok breathes, and waits until they stop at a red light to turn to Junmyeon. He looks at him, and his eyes are shining, but he fights to keep his voice steady, “Please, trust me. Even with just this.”

Junmyeon feels his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. He would trust Minseok with his _life,_ but. He’d made him question how he felt about him, enough that Minseok had to ask for something he’d already given to him, easily, so many years ago.

“I know that I’m not the same as I was,” he starts, working through the words, wanting to be understood. Junmyeon hurts with the thought that Minseok’s perception of himself had changed so much, even if Junmyeon still felt the same way about him. Maybe, maybe even stronger. “But, my heart is the same as it always has been. I’m just hurt, thinking you might not know me well enough to know that.”

“I’m sorry,” Junmyeon says. He begins driving again as the light goes green, but he can’t leave it here. He continues, “I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, or. Like I forced your hand. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

And, somehow. Minseok chuckles. 

Junmyeon almost stops the car completely. He hadn’t heard him laugh in so _long,_ nevermind if it lasted barely a moment and was almost inaudible. 

“You think I know, either?” Minseok says. But, his tone is lighter, and they have a long way to go. But Minseok is reaching over, taking his other hand, and it’s acceptance. Forgiveness, and a beginning. 

It makes Junmyeon’s chest tight, his heart race into a powerful, hopeful beat, and then slow into calm. 

“Let’s go slowly,” Minseok says, and Junmyeon didn’t know that it could be this simple. He didn’t know that it had been right here, in front of him, and now that it is. 

He smiles, unable to stop the curl of the corners of his mouth. 

A long way to go, but. It’s with a lot of promise. 

.

“Oh, hello, Junmyeon,” Jongdae greets him, smiling as he and Minseok enter his office for Minseok’s session for the day. He looks slightly surprised to see him there, but when he notices the way Junmyeon and Minseok’s hands are locked together, his smile becomes all that much warmer. 

“Hi, Jongdae,” he says, smiling in turn. He can’t help the way it takes over his face, cheeks pinking in his happiness. He grips Minseok’s hand a little tighter, and when he looks to his side, Minseok is already looking at him, eyes so _bright_ and full of fondness and Junmyeon feels himself blush a little more.

They’ve been navigating through things, slowly, as promised. The things that strikes Junmyeon the most is how, much of the time, their dynamic hadn’t shifted as much as he thought it would have. He had held himself back for so long, thinking that if he did tell Minseok what he had felt about him, if he were to be open with his love, then he would risk changing too much. They wouldn’t stay _them,_ if Minseok rejected him, or, in the miracle that he did accept him.

But. They still hold hands, Junmyeon still tells him too many stories, Minseok smiles as he listens, Minseok still takes care of him quietly, Junmyeon still teases him. 

If anything, they had become more _them,_ settling into what they had felt with simple ease that Junmyeon did not even think would be a possibility. 

But, when Minseok leans in to kiss his cheek gently before he goes towards Jongdae so he can get the session underway, it feels comfortable, like they this was always going to be where they would end up. Like _home._

It’s another quiet little miracle. Junmyeon is endlessly thankful.

He sits by the wall, watching as they breeze through the exercise, and he really sees it then. The time they had spent apart makes the improvement Minseok had made all that much more stark, so clear, how much he had improved. While he is the slightest bit slower in his steps, he walks as if he had before, and Junmyeon knows that it’s only because they have known each other for so long, have become so attuned to each other’s nuances that he can even notice the most minor struggles Minseok has with his movement. Otherwise, anyone else wouldn’t even notice that Minseok is even struggling, his motions light and almost like a glide. 

And his voice. They all know that it will never be as it once was, but Minseok had worked _so hard._ The last time before the week of silence between them, Junmyeon had already been marvelling at the fact that he was speaking in full sentences, no longer aided by the use of his phone or writing material just to be understood, that he was communicating as well as he was. Now, especially now as Jongdae works with him, Junmyeon sees so much of the Minseok he had trained with, had debuted and made music with, had grown to be _so in love with,_ in front of him, his voice slightly raspier and lower, but strong, _so strong._ He’s still careful with the way he speaks, still a little quiet, and Junmyeon sees his self-consciousness with the way he sounds, but. He really, _truly,_ had nothing to be ashamed of.

He sounds beautiful. This voice is hard-earned, treasured, and Junmyeon _loves him,_ so much.

By the end of the session, Jongdae’s smile is wide, and Minseok smiles in turn, looking sheepishly proud of himself. He has nothing to be sheepish about. He looks at Junmyeon, and Junmyeon feels like he’s not that far off from crying, but he breathes in, standing up and coming up to him, and kisses him softly.

Minseok makes a soft squeak, but he kisses back, letting their lips linger for a bit longer. When they part, he’s pink up to his ears, avoiding Jongdae’s warm gaze, and Junmyeon beams at him, _too proud._

“I’ll, um. I need to go to the restroom,” he says, blushing still. “Need to clear this out,” he says, gesturing to the tube.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Junmyeon asks, and Minseok shakes his head, giving him a small smile.

“I won’t be very long,” he says. He pauses, and he hesitates for a short moment, before he presses a brief, shy kiss against Junmyeon’s lips, before scurrying away to the comfort room. Junmyeon watches him, stunned himself, and sees the way that he can see how red Minseok’s ears had gotten even from behind.

He looks to Jongdae, who is watching everything fondly, and he clears his throat, belatedly feeling the embarrassment. “Sorry.”  
“There’s no need,” he says, waving off Junmyeon’s apology. His eyes are kind as he says, “I was truthfully a little concerned, when you stopped coming by for a while. He still did well, of course, but. There really is a difference when you are with him.”

He remembers what Sehun had said. Junmyeon swallows, feeling even shyer, and he says, “I’m sure with or without me, he would still do well.”

“Hmm,” Jongdae hums. “Yes, I think so as well. But, it’s different when your spirit is lifted, especially by someone you love. In the months we’ve been working together, this is the brightest I’ve seen him.”

Junmyeon doesn’t know what to make of that. He blushes, not wanting to show how pleased the words make him, but. It really has very little to do with him. 

.

Their dates are quiet, private. With everything that had happened, people have _finally_ given them the privacy they’ve been owed for far too long. 

They don’t go out very often, but when they do, they’re mostly left alone. Somehow, fans will still find out where they are, but no one disturbs them, but Junmyeon sees Minseok shrink away slightly, lowering his head and fixing his coat’s collar, hiding his neck even though the tube is already well covered by his scarf. His steps are more deliberate, and Junmyeon slows his steps for him, trying to keep him away from prying eyes.

But, things are good. As good as their situation allows. Being in the kind of incident they were in, with Minseok sustaining the injuries he did, they’re doing what they can to heal and be okay. 

But, considering everything. _Everything._ Junmyeon could not ask for more. After something so traumatic and damaging, even if healing is slow, Minseok guides them through, as he’d always done, despite all the rehabilitation he has to do himself on top of everything. And Junmyeon guides them too; they guide each other, and they’re both thankful to be where they are.

It’s like the way they’ve always been, but still so, completely different.

Today is a quiet day in Minseok’s apartment. Minseok had built up to eating solid food, and he eats his black bean noodles with plenty of fervor, and Junmyeon can’t help but smile as he watches him eat, feeling a little hungrier himself as Minseok slurps his food.

“Can I try your dumplings?” Minseok asks, chewing through his noodles, and Junmyeon chuckles, would let him eat his whole share if he wanted. He feeds him one, bringing the chopsticks up to his mouth. Minseok beams at him, smiling right up to his eyes, and Junmyeon is overwhelmed. He kisses him gently before he feeds the dumpling to him, and when he pulls back, he sees Minseok’s round eyes, his mouth dropped in surprise. His cheeks are pink, and Junmyeon is blushing too. 

The days go like this, often. They’re wholly wonderful, quiet, just theirs.

It winds down quietly, and they’ve just finished eating when Minseok is saying, “Yixing called me earlier.”

Junmyeon pauses from where he had been clearing out the table, and he turns to look at Minseok. His face is mostly blank, but Junmyeon can see the slight sadness in his eyes. There’s a small smile on his lips that doesn’t reach the rest of his face, and it’s enough to get Junmyeon to stop, ask him, “Well. What did you talk about? If, if you want to share that with me.”

“I think I have to,” Minseok says, and his smile grows slightly, but his face remains hard to read. But, somehow, Junmyeon can read the resignation on his face. It makes his stomach tight with worry, and it gets ever tighter when Minseok tells him, “I sent him a message the other day, about me retiring and ending my contract.”

Junmyeon’s chest aches, instantly. And it’s not as if he didn’t know this day would come, as if he didn’t know, sitting next to Minseok as he laid unconscious in the hospital bed post-surgery, that EX-ES would no longer be. 

Still. The pain of the reality is devastating.

“And what did he say?” he asks, waiting for Minseok to gather his thoughts.

He can’t tell, what Minseok is thinking. How difficult coming to this decision must have been, how it must have chipped away at his soul, to give up something he had worked so hard for, what he gave so many years of his life to. Something he held close to his heart, only for it to be taken away when he had been at the top of his game.

It’s nothing short of cruel.

“He asked, at first, if there was really no way for me to continue, or pick it up again,” he says. He sighs, “And, you know, I _want_ there to be a way. I _so_ desperately _want_ there to be a way I can keep doing what we’ve always done. But, no matter how much I work to get myself back to a point where I can function normally, I will always fall short somewhere.”

“Please don’t think of yourself that way,” Junmyeon says quietly.

Minseok gives him a small smile. The melancholy colors his eyes, and he says, “But it’s true. Like, the leg. I’ll never dance the same way again. It’s for life. It will always be fragile, and I will always be in some pain because of it. Running will be a struggle, and even if my leg _somehow_ would lend itself to even simple dancing, my voice. I have some control over it now, but never enough for the way we’re always releasing material, and surely not for tours. It’s no longer in the cards. I just physically _can’t,_ anymore.”

He looks resigned, pensive. Not quite okay, but like he’s given it enough time and thought to one day be. 

Junmyeon feels his chest ache. “I wouldn’t mind, if we didn’t tour as much, or if we did performances, it could be with less challenging choreography. I wouldn’t mind, if we were that type of group.”

“But I would,” Minseok says with finality. Junmyeon looks at him, and he doesn't doubt that Minseok _means_ it from the expression on his face alone. 

Minseok had always, _always,_ been the type to give _all_ of himself to everything he does. Everything and more, to create performances and music that were beyond what anyone would expect from them, raising his own bar, and consequently _everyone else’s,_ to do more and more each time.

He doesn’t doubt that he has the same spirit, now. But, with his body the way it is, either he would suffer from the pain of giving too much, or the performance would be less than what he found satisfactory. Something would always have to give, from now on.

“I don’t want people to look down on us because of me,” he says. “I don’t want their pity, I don’t want them to look down on _you,_ or your talent, because I would drag us down. You deserve more than that, you deserve more than to be stuck with me.”

Junmyeon feels his heart break, his eyes sting. Hates, _hates,_ that Minseok is thinking of himself this way. “Don’t say that. You, you wouldn’t drag us down. And _I want to be,_ I want to be stuck with you.”

“You do have me, at least in this way,” Minseok says, smiling for him a little as he reaches over, taking Junmyeon’s hand in his. “It will hurt. But, as much as I want to keep moving forward, this isn’t my path anymore. I’ll come to terms with it. But my life won’t end here. And, I have you, don’t I? I’ll be okay.”

Junmyeon looks at him, and he feels sadness fill his veins, but despite it all, a pride so fierce overwhelms it all; he himself could never be so strong in a situation like this, to accept that things will never be the same, to start over, essentially. 

Minseok has always been stronger. He loves him fiercely. He mourns their future as a group, but he will be here, loving him. As long as Minseok will have him.

“I love you,” he says, leaning in to kiss Minseok. Minseok smiles against his lips, sighing quietly, and they take the moment, making it theirs.

.

The announcement is simple, mostly direct. They post it to their own fancafe.

_‘Hello. This is Xiumin, and Suho._

_The past months have been very challenging, and quiet. There have been many improvements, but many struggles, and they will continue to come, even as healing is done._

_We have tried, tried very hard to return to what we were, and even tried to become stronger. But there is too much that cannot be regained, and it has been devastating, humbling, heartbreaking. But, with your constant love, we have come to realize that it will be okay to keep walking, but the roads we walk on must diverge for the better._

_There has been much deliberation to come to this decision. It has not been easy. We are endlessly sorry that it had to be this way. But Xiumin will be leaving the group to focus on his health, to become strong enough to live this second chance of life well and happily. We will always be in each other’s lives, and continue to support and love each other through this new reality._

_We hope we have your support, and love. We are sorry we could not do this to the end, with you all. EX-ES would never have been a dream realized, had it not been for our EVs. We are sorry, we are thankful for your love these many weeks._

_Thank you for all your love, these many years. We will move forward with our new lives, and we hope we do this with your blessing._

_This has been Xiumin. Now, living as Kim Minseok, from this point forward._

_We love you. We are grateful for you. Thank you.’_

They post on their respective Instagram pages thereafter. 

Minseok posts a picture of their silhouettes at their closing concert of the last tour, blanketed by the lights of their fans. He captions it, _‘Thank you, forever. I will always be grateful.’_

Junmyeon posts a picture of them, a few days before they had debuted, slumped together against the mirrored wall and taking a nap together, sleeping and leaning against each other after a particularly grueling rehearsal for their debut showcase. He captions it, _‘You will always have me.’_

They get millions of likes within the hour. Countless tears in their comments, unending love and support.

With it, they move forward on their new path. Together.

.

Today, they begin moving on, concretely.

“EVs spoil you way too much, this is going to take a whole other truck to move,” Baekhyun huffs, lifting up yet another box of gifts from fans out of Minseok’s room in the dormitory he and Junmyeon share, the one they’ve shared, even as they moved out to their own respective apartments, somehow finding themselves back here during promotional periods. 

He’s cleaning out his things today. Bringing them to his own place, bringing some things over to his parents’ house. Starting over, by leaving this slate clean.

Junmyeon is having a harder time than he’d like to admit, watching as Minseok’s half of the dorm is slowly removed, piece by piece. It feels rather empty. 

Minseok shrugs, “They’ve been very good to us. They even handled me leaving better than I thought they would,” folding his clothes so they fit in the other boxes he’d had prepared to be transferred to his apartment. 

“You’re a multi-millionaire, you don’t need your Rolexes _bought for you,”_ Chanyeol says, huffing as he comes back after having lugged a few boxes down to the moving truck they’d hired. 

“Ah. I’ve been meaning to give you two a few that I’ve bought, since I don’t have much occasion to wear them anymore,” Minseok says, smirking slightly. Baekhyun and Chanyeol still, looking at each other, then at him. “Unless, of course, you don’t want them-”

“Hyung, your fans are the _best,”_ Chanyeol says, grinning widely and coming up to hug him, Bekhyun crowding him from the other side to do the same, saying, “No, Minnie, _you’re_ the best-”

Minseok laughs, and Junmyeon smiles, watching them as he stashes away the stuffed toys, so many cats and hamsters and Marshals, each one holding a small memory. They become more precious, with each one stacked away, and Junmyeon has a harder time saying goodbye than he’d thought he would.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun leave after around an hour more of packing, making to drop off the boxes at Minseok’s place and help his sister make some sense of where to put everything. Minseok stays behind, he and Junmyeon sitting on the floor of his old room and sifting through the smaller trinkets, letters, awards, so many of them, and more personal items left to sort out in the already mostly full boxes separated for donations, disposal, or to bring along to either his childhood home or his apartment, and it’s really sinking, then. That this dorm, their safe place, between them, will be one person emptier, half of its spirit gone. 

“Remember this?” Minseok says, showing him the trophy they had won in their first year together. _Rookie of the Year,_ despite all the odds, despite everyone doubting their stability as a duo. They had done it, their endless hard work, Yixing’s gamble into insisting that they debut together, just the two of them, even gifting them their debut song and a few other tracks for their first extended play, and even Jongin’s hard work as a new choreographer, it had paid off. 

They had cried, cried _so hard,_ that day. They never, _never,_ had dared hope for a better outcome. They didn’t even think it was in their future.

Junmyeon smiles, and it’s a wonderful memory, tinged a little bittersweet. He didn’t think, close to a decade later, they would be here, now. Ending this chapter, this way, not of their own decision, but still by their own means, regardless. 

“Here we are, eleven daesangs later,” Junmyeon says. He smiles, happy that all those years had been good to them, but to be cut off like this, when they still had so much to share of themselves. It’s painful.

Minseok looks at him, quiet, knowing what he’s thinking. He leans in, cupping Junmyeon’s face gently, and giving him a warm smile. _‘I know, I know,’_ Junmyeon reads in his eyes, and he breathes. Smiles for Minseok, thankful for where they are, thankful that despite it all, Minseok is here, loving him. 

It’s good, they’re good.

Junmyeon is looking up again, watches as Minseok ponders over an old jacket, bright yellow and athletic in style, before he shrugs, putting it in the pile for disposal.

Junmyeon can’t help it, he gasps, making Minseok look at him. 

“What is it?” he asks, confused, watching as Junmyeon leans over to get the jacket, “What about it?”

“Why are you throwing this away?” he says, giving Minseok a pout, “You wore this when we filmed our first reality show together.”

“How do you remember that?” Minseok asks him, and Junmyeon feels his ears burn. He’s sure if he told Minseok that when he had shaken his butt and danced his penalty to losing the morning wake-up game while wearing this jacket, he had been sure that months and months of harboring warm feelings towards him were really him being in love with him, Minseok wouldn’t make fun of him. Would maybe even find him even more endearing, but Junmyeon keeps his mouth instead, saying, “You became a trending topic because of this jacket, all over the news and on Twitter-”

“I did?” Minseok says, blinking, and Junmyeon tries not to melt. Distracts himself by looking deeper into the box, and feeling even more indignant when he sees the things Minseok had deposited in there, “These earrings too? _Minseok.”_

“They’re tiny and cheap,” Minseok tells him.

 _“You_ designed it, and it was for your solo fan meeting,” Junmyeon tells him.

Minseok stares, _“I_ let the company sell that to fans?”

“To be fair, they cost cut severely in the production,” he says. Still, Junmyeon looks at them, sees the slight tarnish from when Minseok had sweated through an entire two hours with them on, smiling as widely as he did, in disbelief that he could fill up an arena on his own. Junmyeon had surprised him then, and it had been the first time in several years that he had seen Minseok cry, in gratitude, and the memory of it all makes him want it here, still. 

Minseok watches him silently, taking in his expression, and he starts, “Junmyeon. Do you want to keep some of my old stuff?”

Junmyeon looks at him, not even realizing he had been still for so long. He feels his cheeks pink, but he doesn’t answer, sitting back down instead. He doesn’t let go of the jacket or the earrings, still, and Minseok seems to understand that _yes,_ he wants to keep them.

“Will you use any of those? They’re not really your style,” Minseok says, and he’s not wrong. 

But. “I know. I just, I want to keep a bit of you here,” he says. He feels himself burn red. “So, should the time come that I _do_ need to be here, it’s not so lonely. It sounds silly, I know, but. I just want to feel like you’re still around.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Junmyeon cringes at himself, feeling embarrassed for being so _embarrassing_ with his emotions, but. Minseok is looking through the box himself, and he brings out a stuffed toy a fan gifted him with. 

Junmyeon stares, and looks up. Minseok’s cheeks are pink. “It’s a stuffed version of Tan.”

Junmyeon knows. He can see. He still doesn’t understand.

“A fan made this for me to keep me company here, like a bit of home for me,” he says. “He can be home for you too. And-”

He brings out another toy, considerably smaller, but. Junmyeon knows this one well, has seen it online, has seen it in so many fansigns and even giant versions in their concerts, a criminally _adorable_ doll of baby Minseok, dressed in that woodpecker one-piece outfit from that video he’d shared from when he was a baby, the only thing being more adorable was Minseok himself.

Junmyeon had always been vocal about wanting one, and Minseok had always teased him playfully for it.

Now, though. Minseok’s face is fully pink, looking so _shy_ and completely like the man Junmyeon loves so much, offering two stuffed toys for Junmyeon to take. They’re so soft in Junmyeon’s hands, and he holds the toys close, feeling warm inside despite the sadness that lingers from things changing, more and more. 

“But, you know,” Minseok starts, taking a moment to breathe, “Please, don’t be lonely. You have me.”

And. Junmyeon _does._

He smiles, puts everything down, and crawls over to Minseok, pushing aside the boxes and settling in between Minseok’s legs, sitting on his heels and leaning down to kiss him.

Minseok hums, smiling against his mouth, moving easily as Junmyeon cups his face, tilting his face back so he can get at a better angle. Minseok is sweet, mouth wet and open as Junmyeon pushes his tongue through, licking into his mouth, curling their tongues together. It’s soft, gentle, and then it’s silky, steaming, _hot,_ breathing into each other’s mouths, feeding quiet moans that make Junmyeon feel warm as he shuffles even closer, closer still, until he’s almost in Minseok’s lap.

Minseok kisses him deeply, his arms curling around Junmyeon’s waist and reeling him in, and the air around them just gets hotter still, the sound of their lips moving against each other slick and slightly obscene. Junmyeon feels himself get tighter in his pants, _just_ from _kissing,_ and he moans, pulling away to breathe, knowing his lips are slightly swollen, his face pink, his chest heaving.

When he looks down, he’s met with the sight of Minseok looking up at him, his eyes dark, and his lips red, plump and _gorgeously wet_ from Junmyeon’s mouth, and Junmyeon swallows, belly getting even warmer. It’s certainly not helped when Minseok slides his hands down, down, until he’s palming Junmyeon’s backside, his cheeks fitting against his hands perfectly. 

Junmyeon draws in a sharp breath, unable to stop himself from pushing back against his palms, and he’s kissing Minseok again, licking across his lips, then moving down, tasting the skin of his jaw, his neck where it’s not hidden by Minseok’s silk scarf. 

“Naughty,” Minseok says, chuckling as Junmyeon beams down at him, nipping back up to his chin and then his mouth again. When he pulls back, Minseok trails after his lips, mock biting his lips playfully, making a gobbling up sound along with it, and Junmyeon laughs, yielding easily and kissing him again, deeper and wetter, licking against Minseok’s tongue boldly.

He’d be okay with anything Minseok would want, truthfully. They could stop at this and it would be _more_ than anything he would want or expect, but.

Minseok is one of the most beautiful people he’d ever met. Enticing eyes and legs for days and thighs that Junmyeon had always coveted and envied, and, should he be alright with any of it, he wants him _close._ Wants to touch him everywhere, give him everything he had to give.

“Hmm, what is it that you want, Myeonnie?” Minseok asks him, one hand moving down to grip his thigh, and Junmyeon’s brain almost stops working; his hand is so warm, his clutch firm, just enough to bite into the meatiest part of his leg. 

And Junmyeon, he wants _many_ things. He truly did not ever think he would ever be in this position, to be asked what he wants from the person he loves most. His list is extensive, varied, and he doesn’t know where to begin. 

He tries, regardless. Boldly, simply, with, “I want to fuck you.”

Minseok’s eyes go wide. Junmyeon feels fire dance on his skin. It might have been a _bit much._ From stuffed toys to sex.

Then, Minseok’s eyes go even darker, and his mouth sets itself in a small smirk. He surges up, catching Junmyeon’s lips in a heated kiss, immediately harder, hotter than any before, and Junmyeon _moans,_ right into Minseok’s mouth, licking his teeth and tongue and molding himself against Minseok’s body, getting as close as he can get, but there are still too many things between them. Too many layers, that all need to go. 

He pulls back, feeling the fire in his veins as he stands, helping Minseok up onto the bed, then hovering on top of him, making out with him heavily as Minseok’s legs bracket him. There are hands on Junmyeon’s ass, pushing him _down_ to Minseok’s crotch, and Junmyeon moans. He’s hard, _so hard,_ grinding up against Junmyeon’s own erection, and it’s so _hot_ in the room, between them, and Junmyeon touches him _everywhere._

“All because,” Minseok says, a little out of breath as Junmyeon shucks off his jacket, then his top, feeling Minseok’s eyes on his chest, the abs he’d worked so hard for, making him blush. “I gave you a stuffed toy of my cat.”

“Shut _up,”_ Junmyeon huffs, unable to bite back his grin, and he dives back in, feeding his tongue back into his mouth and sliding their tongues together wetly.

Minseok hums, parting his mouth easily as Junmyeon licks into him, complying easily as Junmyeon strips off his jacket, his button down, and his hands are all over Junmyeon’s body, mapping out the expanse of his skin, on his back, his chest, his hips, and Junmyeon imagines it leaves behind marks. Like paint trails in Minseok’s colors, dyeing him with his soul and spirit through his touch, just for him. He’s all his.

“I. I have thought of having you like this,” Minseok says, voice even lower and hoarser as Junmyeon slithers down his torso, stopping at his pants. He bites back his moan as Junmyeon unbuttons his jeans, pulling down everything, until his cock is freed from their confines, and Junmyeon loses his breath. Minseok is thick, so, so _hard_ and the shaft veiny, flushed deeply pink and Junmyeon feels his mouth water. 

“Like what?” Junmyeon asks him, not without reaching forward, taking Minseok's length in his hand and stroking, once, then again, and then more as Minseok moans, arching into his touch. 

“Like, _oh, fuck,”_ Minseok moans, as loud as his teach will allow as Junmyeon leans in to lick at the head, the precome gathering on his tongue as he swipes gets his mouth around his cock. “Like, having you on my bed.”

“We’ve shared beds,” Junmyeon says, smirking, looking up at him, and Minseok gives him a look, altogether fond and teasing and a little exasperated.

“Not like this,” Minseok says, chuckling, then _moaning_ and Junmyeon brings his own cock out, and slides his length against Minseok’s. They both tremble, and Junmyeon feels it down to his veins; he gets his hand around their cocks, strokes them together, and Minseok clings on, reaching down to grab his ass again, his nails biting lightly into his flesh. “I. I’ve wanted you like this, for _so long.”_

And Junmyeon _gets it._ All these years, and he never thought they would get _here,_ in this way. Touching each other so intimately like this, and he’d always thought that _he_ would be making these confessions. _He_ would be the one telling Minseok how much he’d wanted to have him on top of him, under him, inside him, or be inside him. Everything, he’d wanted _everything._ The love, and everything that might come with it.

He would have been so, _so_ happy, with anything Minseok would be willing to give him. To have him _want_ to be with him this way, it makes Junmyeon’s spirit sing.

It’s not long until they strip out of their pants properly, and Junmyeon is spreading lube from Minseok’s hidden vanity all over his fingers, smiling at the blush that makes Minseok turn pink as he had handed it over. Minseok is spreading his legs, and Junmyeon settles above him, reaching down to his hole with his slicked up fingers.

Minseok moans, arching into it, and Junmyeon leans down, latching their lips together, and he’d _always_ thought Minseok was the prettiest person he’d ever met, but seeing him this way, naked under him, lips parted and wet from Junmyeon’s saliva and arching his body off the bed, wanting to get nearer to him. He’s _beautiful,_ achingly gorgeous that makes Junmyeon feel like he’d been lit up from the inside.

“Junmyeon, ah, _ah,”_ Minseok says, voice low, raspy as he spreads his legs even further, his ass opening up for Junmyeon’s fingers and making Junmyeon feel like he’s on fire. “Fuck, a little deeper - _yes, right there,”_ his voice shudders before he lets out another moan, moving his hips when Junmyeon pushes three fingers inside his hole, pushing in right up to his knuckles. 

Junmyeon’s own breath hitches as he watches Minseok below him, hips moving and his ass tight, _tight_ as it squeezes around his fingers, hot and snug and Junmyeon desperately needs to fill his ass up with his cock, needs to feel that warmth around himself. His skin _sheens_ with the thin film of sweat coating his body, and his cock stiff, sliding across his taut belly and smearing precome all over his stomach. 

He feels like he’s on fire, like this can’t be real. Like this is too good to be true, to be happening to him. In the time they’ve known each other, it’s not like seeing Minseok naked is something new. They’ve become so comfortable with each other that not having clothes on was not a big deal at all, but. 

It’s different, it’s _so different,_ having their skin slide together, about to make a home in each other, inside, and all around.

“Myeon?” Minseok says, reaching up to cup his cheek. Junmyeon blinks, not even realizing he had paused, and he looks down at where Minseok is watching him, eyes glazed over but still with him completely. 

An apology for not being in the moment is on his lips, ready to be offered, but he doesn’t get to say it, as Minseok is suddenly turning them over, and Junmyeon finds himself on his back, stunned, watching as Minseok carefully climbs over his hips, his ass setting itself on his lap.

It makes Junmyeon groan, head falling back to the pillows as his length slides between Minseok’s ass cheeks, but he breathes slowly, hands gentle as they settle on Minseok’s thighs. He asks quietly, “Your leg? Will you be okay?”

“It’s not as if sitting on your cock will be _too_ strenuous,” Minseok says, too casually for Junmyeon to stay calm. 

Junmyeon moans, nails digging into Minseok’s skin slightly, and he hands over a condom when asked, Minseok moving down slightly to he can slide it down his length, the heat and touch from his hands making Junmyeon tremble, feeling it down to his fingertips.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Junmyeon tells him, touching his injured leg carefully, looking at him with a quiet gaze.

Minseok looks down at him, and he smiles. Leans in to kiss him once, licking and tracing the shape of his lips with his tongue, and Junmyeon moans even more. Feels his cock jump as Minseok pours more lube over him, make him extra slick for him. 

He watches as Minseok rises slightly on his knees, holding Junmyeon’s cock up as he moves back, guiding it to his stretched hole, and. Junmyeon is about to be _inside him._

He can barely breathe.

Then, Minseok is sinking down on his cock, and Junmyeon is enveloped by a tight, _tight_ heat, squeezing around his length, and he moans, head falling back on to the pillows as he shuts his eyes, overwhelmed by Minseok’s _divine_ ass clenching around him, plunging down, down still, until his ass is pillowed by Junmyeon’s thighs, and Junmyeon is balls deep in.

They both _moan,_ loudly, obscenely, and Minseok pumps his hips on his cock, face fallen in ecstasy as he rocks on top of him minutely, taking it in, and. 

It’s perfect, they’re _perfect._

“Holy _fuck. Fuck, Minseok,”_ Junmyeon groans, gripping Minseok’s thighs, wanting to drive into him from below, cram his cock into him and _fuck him,_ but he grits his teeth, forcing himself to stay still, waiting for Minseok. 

“Oh, _oh,”_ Minseok hums, head tilted back as he rolls his hips, moving his ass on his cock in figure eight motions, and Junmyeon can’t stop staring; Minseok is so fucking _hot,_ so effortlessly sensual as he moves on top of him, taking his cock like it was made for him.

Junmyeon certainly feels like he was made for this. Made for Minseok to love and find pleasure in, and everything entailed in it. It feels glorious, like another miracle. 

“Junmyeon, _fuck,”_ Minseok swears, setting a hand on Junmyeon’s belly and arching his back, going harder, fucking back against his cock. “Oh, you’re so _thick,_ so hard for me. Stretching me out, feels like you’re splitting me in two. So fucking _good-”_

 _“Fuck, yes,”_ Junmyeon mutters, looking down, watching his cock plunging into Minseok as he moves up and down on his length, riding him down slowly, but roughly. “All for you. God, _fuck,_ your ass is so fucking _tight, so sweet-”_

“Oh god, Myeonnie, oh _fuck,”_ Minseok whimpers, pace building up as sinks down on his cock, over and over, his ass slapping down on his hips and their skin meeting in filthy noises that makes everything hotter, and he goes fast and hard, enough that his cock bounces against Junmyeon’s belly as he moves, hard and desperate already. “Feel so good, Junmyeon. Fuck, _fuck-”_

 _“Take it,_ take my cock, Minnie,” Junmyeon says, reaching over to take Minseok’s cock in his hand, only for Minseok to push his hand away, shaking his head as he gasps, instantly apparent that he intends to draw this out as much as he can. “Oh, _fuck,_ Minseok. Ride me, fuck. Bounce on my cock,” he keeps talking, and usually, he would feel so _shy,_ even just _thinking_ of speaking like this. 

But, somehow, with Minseok. The words just fall of their lips, so easily, without much thought, and he thought speaking like this, so _dirty_ and _filthy,_ it would be strange. Maybe awkward at best, embarrassing and mortifying at worst, but. It’s all so _natural,_ the words coming to his lips effortlessly.

Minseok is just so _sexy,_ deserving of the words, and it’s not difficult to praise him, telling him about how _perfect_ his ass feels round Junmyeon’s cock.

He wants more, and he asks Minseok, “Min. Can, can you put your knees up, and lean back? Hold my thighs?”

Minseok blinks, breathing heavily, but he looks down, and doesn’t take long to follow as he’s told. He sets his hands on Junmyeon’s thighs behind him, lifting his legs and setting his feet down on the mattress, on either side of Junmyeon’s waist, and he looks so _sexy,_ so _indecently_ soft, and Junmyeon’s brain just about melts out of his ears.

Minseok is _perfection,_ looking so _beautiful_ and alluring as he exposes himself in front of Junmyeon, made to be fucked. 

“Hmm, _hmm,_ your cock,” Minseok moans, blissed out as he goes on, drilling himself down on his length, praising him as he sinks down on his length. Junmyeon can barely speak, so _overwhelmed_ by Minseok’s _everything,_ and he can’t take his eyes off of him, watches on as Minseok fucks himself down, taking him inside him, his own cock bouncing as he goes.

“God, _fuck, Minseok,”_ Junmyeon moans, watches as his cock enters Minseok over and over again, and his chest shakes, heart racing in his chest as Minseok rides him. 

He can barely take it. Junmyeon cries out as Minseok _slams_ himself down, his ass slapping against the thin skin of his hips, and his cock is so hard, clenched _tightly_ by Minseok’s body as he moves up and down on him. 

He’s _perfect._ Junmyeon had known it before, but now, it truly is irrefutable. 

He swallows, throat feeling dry and hot, and Junmyeon can’t take it. He brings his hands up to Minseok’s waist, planting his feet on the bed and raising his knees slightly, and he shoves his hips up, plowing into Minseok from below as he slams him down to meet his cock.

Minseok’s breath is choked, but everything shows on his face. Stunned, then instantly _melting_ into Junmyeon’s touch, mouth dropped open and eyes shut as he throws his head back, pliant in Junmyeon’s hands. He’s _beautiful,_ fucking gorgeous as Junmyeon rams up into his hole, his ass so _tight_ as he clenches around his cock, and Junmyeon fucks him harder, harder still.

“Ah, _ah,”_ Minseok moans, his voice even lower and raspier than it had been earlier still, and he exhales, gasping as Junmyeon fucks him. Junmyeon _rams_ in, and Minseok’s moan is cut short as he gasps loudly, his body slumping forward then as he catches his breath, body trembling and ass clenching around Junmyeon’s length as he does.

Junmyeon stills his hips, hands moving down to Minseok’s thigh, touching his leg gingerly as he looks at him quietly. “Does it hurt? How do you feel?”

Minseok breathes slowly, hair matted down slightly by his sweat, body covered in it, and he takes a moment just breathing, working through it, before replying, “No. It’s okay. Just, it twinges, a little.”

Junmyeon rises up to his elbows slightly, face dropping at his answer. “Min-”

“I’m fine, just. Give me a minute,” he says, breathing a little more labored, and Junmyeon watches him, wishing he could help alleviate his discomfort a little. 

His eyes move down, stopping at Minseok’s neck, where the scarf he’d had tied around his tracheal tube is soaked where it meets his skin, and Junmyeon looks at Minseok. Can see from his face that it’s bothering him more than he’d like to admit, the heat and exertion making the tube hard enough to deal with as it is. 

He reaches up, touching his neck gently, and Minseok stills, staring down at him, his eyes wide and unsure.

Junmyeon swallows, says, “It must be hot, with this.”

“I. I am a little,” he admits, but he backs away slightly, pupils shaking as he does. And Junmyeon doesn’t know how he feels. Can’t claim to know what he’s thinking, but he just wants him to feel free around him. To not have to think of this, being between them.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Junmyeon starts slowly, wanting to say the right words, wanting Minseok to feel as comfortable as he can, with him, with the trach. “But. Do you want to take off the scarf? It, it looks like it’s bothering you.”

Minseok looks at him, eyes scared, and Junmyeon backs off instantly. He sits up a little more, wrapping his arms around Minseok’s waist, holding him closer.

“Sorry,” he offers first, and Minseok shakes his head, mumbling, _“You don’t need to be.”_ But Junmyeon doesn’t want that expression on his face again. “I understand, if you don’t want to show me.”

Minseok stays quiet, blinking to himself, then hiding his face in Junmyeon’s neck. Junmyeon holds him, embracing him closely, feels his cock twitch inside Minseok, but he ignores it, wanting Minseok to be comfortable foremost. He makes to pull out, but Minseok is shaking his head, holding him closer.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, even though he has nothing to be sorry for. “It’s. It’s weird, I know it is. I don’t want you to be put off by it, or. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know I don’t look the same.”

And Junmyeon looks at him. Moves back so he can get a good look at his face, sees him flushed red and his eyes looking down, and Junmyeon feels his chest ache. And he understands, even just a little. 

Minseok doesn’t want to scare him off, and while that in itself is devastating to Junmyeon, it stings even more that Minseok would be so conscious of it. Junmyeon understands that it’s not just for him, but for _Minseok_ himself as well, that as well as he’s adapted to them, it’s still jarring, to have the tube, the speaking valve, all these foreign tools to him that he needs to breathe. 

Junmyeon understands. But, more than that, he just wants him to not worry about these things, wants him to have a safe space, even just between the two of them.

“I think you’re beautiful,” he says, feels himself blush as he says it, but he doesn’t back away, doesn’t look down. Minseok looks at him, surprised, and Junmyeon swallows, asks him as he brings his hand back up again, touching near his neck, “Min. I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you’re uncomfortable with, and we can just. Leave this, but, I’ll try. May I?”

And Minseok seems to tremble on top of him, staring down at him, his hands shaking where they’re set on Junmyeon’s shoulders. Junmyeon waits patiently, before Minseok answers quietly, “I. I want to. But.”

He trails off, and Junmyeon breathes slowly. Pulls himself together, so he can give Minseok a bit of courage, as he’d given him so generously, these past months. “You can trust me. I love you. I promise, nothing can deter me, you don’t have anything to be worried about. I know it’s there, and I’m not put off by it. I just want you to breathe a little easier.”

Minseok looks at him, and Junmyeon watches as his cheeks grow gradually pinker. Junmyeon waits for him, would wait as long as he needs, but Minseok takes just another minute, before he says, “I love you too.”

Junmyeon feels the small joy bloom in his chest, flowering and taking over and making him smile, and Minseok takes another moment, before he eventually nods, gently guiding Junmyeon’s hand up to the knot of the scarf himself. 

Junmyeon feels his vulnerability, and feels especially privileged, _honored,_ to be trusted with something as personal as this. He won’t ever take it for granted.

He carefully, slowly loosens the knot, and slips the scarf away, revealing the band around Minseok’s neck, the tube, with the wheel-shaped speaking valve attached on the front, letting Minseok speak, moan, communicate with him. Junmyeon doesn’t blink at the sight of it, had been there when Minseok was still hooked up to a machine, in the first moments when he had been guided to the use and care of the trach, had been there as he’d attended so many therapy sessions to get accustomed to it. 

Minseok has a hole in his neck. Junmyeon won’t forget it, and while it  _ was  _ shocking, even heartbreaking the first time he saw it, he can say now, he’s not deterred by it, at all.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Minseok says. His voice is soft, low, and scared.

Junmyeon doesn’t want him to be. It’s not weird, and Minseok isn’t weird for having it. 

It is what it is, and Junmyeon loves him. “Thanks to this, you’re still alive. I’m thankful for it.”

Minseok stares at him, his whole face becoming flushed, and Junmyeon smiles at him, leaning up to press a kiss onto his lips. “I love you.”

Minseok trembles slightly against him, deepening the kiss and holding on to Junmyeon tightly, melting into him. “Thank you,” he says quietly, leaning their heads together. His eyes are shining, but the smile on his lips reach them easily. “I love you, too.”

Junmyeon smiles. Surges up to kiss him again, hands mapping Minseok’s back extensively, and he rocks his hips up, making Minseok gasp against his lips as he spears into him.

“Oh, right there, _right there,”_ Minseok is saying, voice shaky as Junmyeon drills up into his body, grinding into his ass and keeping him crammed full, filling him up _just right._

Junmyeon hums, closing his eyes and taking in the sensation of Minseok’s warmth around his cock, and his hands move down to squeeze his ass, moving him along as they grind together.

“So _fucking good,”_ Junmyeon moans, his whole body hot with it, and Minseok whines with him, riding him as best as he can, but Junmyeon feels him slow, trying not to stop, but just from the way he’s breathing, Junmyeon knows he can’t stay in this position.

“I’ll move you a bit, Minnie,” he says, waiting for Minseok’s nod before he takes a tight hold of his body, turning them over to lay him on the bed. He takes a moment to make sure he’s comfortable, bringing a pillow to place under his hips, one for his head, leaning in to brush the wet strands of hair off his face, and even wiping off his sweat. Minseok looks up at him with bright eyes, breathing rather heavily as Junmyeon tends to him carefully.

“Does that feel better?” he asks him, touching his leg gingerly, taking care to not disturb it too much as he settles between Minseok’s thighs. 

Minseok nods, “It does,” he says, before he curls his arms around his back, pulling him in a little closer. His eyes bore into Junmyeon’s, a little shy, completely wanting, “Put it back in me. Fuck me.”

Junmyeon swallows heavily, blood rushing down, and he nods, “You’ll tell me if I go too hard?”

Minseok nods, but gives him a little smirk, “Let’s see if you can get even close.”

Oh, _oh._

Junmyeon grins down at him, and Minseok laughs back, and he’s so in love with him. He grips his waist, the sweat on his hands and Minseok’s skin making things a little tacky and slippery, but he holds on tightly, and he _pounds in,_ cramming his cock back inside him in one thrust, balls deep and their skin slapping together. 

Minseok moans under him, whining a little more loudly as Junmyeon fucks him, hammering his cock into his hole over and over, and he’s saying, “Fuck, _Junmyeon, your cock-”_

 _“So tight,”_ Junmyeon groans, his hands on either side of Minseok’s head as he hovers over him, drilling his cock into him. He goes a little rougher, shoving his length into Minseok’s ass in a pace that doesn’t let up, and Minseok is nothing short of perfect, taking it. 

“Harder, _fuck, fuck me harder,”_ Minseok moans, legs parting even more as he’s rammed into, and Junmyeon is about to _burst,_ Minseok’s tight walls clenching around him even tighter as he asks for more.

And Junmyeon is _so willing_ to give it to him, _“Yes, baby,”_ he moans, pistoning into him, cock _slamming_ into Minseok’s hole. “God, fuck, your _ass,_ so fucking _sweet.”_

“Yes, _yes, faster,”_ Minseok whines, his nails biting into Junmyeon’s back as he gives him _everything_ he has, making him _take it,_ and Minseok moans more and more, loving it all.

They’re soon at a point where they’re going to come, moaning together and breathing into each other’s mouths as they fuck, and Junmyeon is _losing it,_ losing himself in Minseok’s tight heat, and an endless stream of moans escapes his lips as he plows into Minseok, losing his pace bit by bit.

“Ah, _ah,_ baby, gonna come,” Minseok moans, moaning so prettily it makes Junmyeon’s toes curl, overwhelmed by the clenching around his cock. “Fuck, _fuck, oh fuck-”_

“Come on my cock,” Junmyeon hums against his lips, making him whine as he’s pounded into, and Junmyeon isn’t that far off himself. Doubles down on his pace, driving into Minseok even harder, even faster, saying, “You can do it, _fuck, so good.”_

“Fuck, _fuck, Junmyeon,”_ Minseok moans, crying out as he rolls his hips back as much as he can, being so fucking _perfect,_ taking Junmyeon’s cock as if he were made for it. “Yes, make my ass yours. _Yes, gonna come for you-”_

 _“Yes, baby,”_ Junmyeon groans, and Minseok says, _“Fuck! Fuck, oh god,”_ his hole squeezing and winking around Junmyeon’s cock, and, as he’d said, he comes from the friction of their bodie rubbing together as they’d fucked. His body goes taut, still, as he moans, arching up off the bed slightly as his cock spills white ribbons of come all over his belly, some drops even reaching his neck.

He’s so fucking _sexy,_ so hot, _perfect,_ and the pressure around his cock makes Junmyeon gasp, the heat that had built up in his belly _snapping_ hard, and he pumps and grinds into Minseok’s ass, filling the condom with his come as he comes inside.

“Fuck, _fuck, baby,”_ Junmyeon groans, grinding in _hard,_ keeping his cock rooted inside him for several moments as he shoots inside him. Minseok moans, ass twitching around Junmyeon’s cock, certainly not making coming down any easier, and Junmyeon groans, shaking slightly.

It takes several minutes of quiet, just breathing together, letting the moment wash over them. Then, Minseok is laughing quietly, chest shaking as he smiles, bringing an arm up to cover his eyes as he laughs, and Junmyeon grins along with him, understanding completely, feeling it all himself.

“Fuck, _fuck,_ we could have been doing that the whole time?” Minseok says, and Junmyeon laughs, feeling himself blush. “Idiots.”

“Well, we’re here now,” Junmyeon says, smiling warmly as Minseok peeks out from under his arm, barely taking a moment before he’s smiling too, bringing his arms up to wrap around Junmyeon’s shoulders. He reels him in, and kisses him soundly, and Junmyeon melts into him, feeling especially wonderful, exhausted, endlessly grateful.

.


	2. Chapter 2

They’re doing wonderfully. Truly, Junmyeon had never thought that it could be this calming to be with Minseok in this way, being able to reach over and having his hand held, kissing him when the sun rises and when it sets, being together and loving each other and knowing that there are many bright spots in their lives, but this. Each other, having what’s just  _ theirs,  _ is certainly a flame that shines especially bright, but still soft, a glow that he wakes up looking forward to, everyday.

Minseok improves everyday, and Junmyeon is proud, everyday, to be with him, being by his side as he gets even stronger. Many days, Junmyeon forgets that they had been through an accident, with how well Minseok had become.

It’s a strange feeling when he remembers, when Minseok has to clean out his trach several times a day despite the hard-earned strength of his voice, or when he overexerts himself, his face wincing slightly as he taps his leg, trying to relieve it of the discomfort, despite moving normally just moments before.

It’s a strange feeling, tinged with a guilt that Junmyeon can’t quite explain. 

The emotion becomes especially strong one day, in the company cafeteria during lunch between Minseok’s maintenance sessions, when Minseok brings up something he didn’t expect to even think about, at least not for a long time.

“Have you thought about making music again?” Minseok asks him, just as Junmyeon is slurping some unfortunately hot stew into his mouth. 

He flaps his hand, fanning his mouth pathetically that really does nothing to alleviate the burning on his tongue, and Minseok is plopping a little cube of ice on his lip to help, which Junmyeon really appreciates. 

He really hadn’t thought about it, is the answer. He and Minseok are immensely fortunate to have the kind of job and lifestyle that sustains them well financially, even when they’re not actively working, so he hadn’t truly thought of getting back into it to earn. Even then, the company had thus far shouldered Minseok’s medical expenses, and is even paying for Junmyeon’s many therapy sessions alongside, so he hadn’t quite thought about money. 

Does he miss being in a studio and recording, does he miss being in the mirrored practice room with Jongin and rehearsing new songs, does he miss the excitement of the build-up to a release, to share whatever they’ve been working so hard on with the fans who have been constant with their support and love?

Of course he does, it’s barely a question. But with everything that had happened, with everything that they had almost lost. That  _ he  _ had almost lost, he could not find it in himself to make going back to it a priority. 

“Not really,” he says, and it’s really not a lie. Other things had taken up his time, some devastating things, then a  _ wonderful  _ thing. 

Minseok looks at him, and asks him, “Do you want to?”

He looks at him earnestly, waiting. Junmyeon doesn’t know what to tell him, doesn’t know what this conversation is for. “I’ll always want to make music. But, right now? I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t think I’m ready to do it without you, and I don’t want to, either. 

Minseok stays silent for a moment, and Junmyeon doesn’t expect it when he says, “I was just thinking. What would happen to our group name. It’s been on my mind a lot.”

Junmyeon doesn’t know how to reply to that. To him, they’ll always be  _ them,  _ they’ll always have their history and connection and they  _ are  _ EX-ES. He knows that if this incident hadn’t happened, he and Minseok would continue making music together, had every intention of staying as a duo, maybe slowing down some years in the future, but not stopping. 

Now. He doesn’t know what the future holds. 

“Would you promote as Suho, or. With your real name?” Minseok asks him, and Junmyeon shifts a little in his seat. 

He didn’t expect any of this. He didn’t know Minseok had been thinking about all these things, didn’t know that these thoughts weighed enough in his mind that he would ask Junmyeon about it. 

“I don’t really think about things like that,” he tells him honestly. 

Minseok hums, and he has a far-off expression on his face. Junmyeon watches him, feeling his own chest sting as Minseok looks out thoughtfully, before Minseok says quietly, “It’s just a thought. But it would be wonderful if you kept the group name if you continue to promote.”

Junmyeon looks at him, stunned. “As EX-ES? Without you?”

He doesn't know why it makes his heart hurt as much as it does. He can’t even fathom it. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time this would happen to a duo,” Minseok muses, “Keeping the name even though they’re a member short.”

“I don’t know Min, I don’t want an EX-ES without you,” Junmyeon says, and even just saying it. It doesn’t feel right. “Even then, I haven’t thought about doing anything like that. I don’t want to do it without you, or with anyone else.”

“I’m sorry,” Minseok says. His smile is small, and Junmyeon has a hard time looking at him, seeing him look so resigned. “I shouldn’t have upset you.”

“No, I’m not upset,” Junmyeon says, even though he isn’t exactly pleased with the topic of conversation. He doesn’t want to think about a very real, plausible future where he’ll have to continue, without Minseok. “I’m not upset with you. I just, I don’t know what to do. It makes me anxious.”   
“I’m sorry, still,” Minseok says. He pauses, and he’s still smiling, but Junmyeoon sees that it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It was just a thought.”

Junmyeon watches him, knowing that Minseok wouldn’t just bring this out of nowhere for no reason. He’d been thinking about it, really thinking about Junmyeon’s future as a singer. Thinking about how he isn’t part of that journey anymore, and Junmyeon can feel that as much as he’s doing his best to be okay, it’s still so much he had lost. 

He looks at him, asks him quietly, “Are you alright?”

It takes Minseok several moments before he answers, “I don’t know.”

Junmyeon’s chest goes tight, and he reaches over to stroke Minseok’s cheek with his knuckle. Minseok leans in to the touch, sighing a little as he thinks quietly to himself. 

Junmyeon doesn’t want him to ever have a hard time. If easy isn’t possible, then he at least wants things to be good for him from this point forward, because Minseok deserves it more than anyone. 

“But, should the time come, I’d be behind you, all the way. I’ll help in whatever way I can, even though I know it wouldn’t be much,” he says, waving Junmyeon off when he pouts. Junmyeon  _ knows  _ whatever he would do, it wouldn’t be ‘ _ not much.’  _ “I’ll be with you, when the time is right.”

Junmyeon looks at him, sighing a little. Takes his hand, and holds on a little tighter, not knowing what tomorrow, let alone the further off future, would bring. But he hopes again it will be good to them. To Minseok, and to him.

.

He doesn’t expect it, when he wakes up in the middle of the night, the words from his dream so vividly  _ visceral,  _ he could almost  _ hear it  _ in the melody that he’d heard only once before, strong enough to make him wake.

Minseok is curled against him, fast asleep, and Junmyeon watches him, feeling his heart race. He feels so many things, so much love, but guilt, confusion coloring everything something muddled. 

He’d told him he couldn’t make music without him. He still believes that, months later, but.

He extracts himself carefully from Minseok’s embrace, pulling on his underwear and shorts as he pads away from the bed, thighs aching as he takes his phone and leaves the room.

He locks himself in the bathroom, seating himself on top of the toilet as he breathes slowly, gathering himself. He trembles, and he turns on his phone, and goes straight to the notes app, and writes all the words, everything he remembers. By the time he’s done, almost an hour has passed, and he looks at the time, sees it’s almost three in the morning.

He swallows heavily, feeling more emotional than he thought he’d feel. The tears spring to his eyes, and he doesn’t understand what he’s feeling. It’s too much,  _ too much,  _ but. It sounds so  _ real  _ in his mind, so complete. 

Like it’s all his to create, make tangible.

He wracks his mind, trying to remember where he’d heard the tune from, thinks back to everything Yixing had ever showed him and Minseok, every A&R meeting they’d sat through, every warm-up song Jongin had blasted through the speakers of the practice room.

Then, he remembers. And, he can’t explain why, but the tears begin to fall.

He trembles, and it’s late, but he messages Chanyeol, not expecting a reply, but he sends anyway,  _ ‘Do you remember the instrumental you played for us once? I think you called it “emo galaxy melody?”’ _

But, somehow, Chanyeol is awake, and replies within a minute,  _ ‘??? you’re awake?’,  _ following up seconds later, _ ‘I remember it. couldn’t ever finish it though. it’s probably somewhere in my old files, why?’ _

Junmyeon cries as he types,  _ ‘Can I help you finish it?’ _

.

They name it ‘Been Through.’

Chanyeol stares at him, after Junmyeon finishes recording the demo, his voice a little out of use, but. As they listen to it, huddled together in Chanyeol’s studio, it’s clear, it’s a shifting tide.

“Hyung,” Chanyeol says, his eyes a little wide as he looks at Junmyeon. “Where did all  _ that  _ come from?”

Junmyeon feels his chest ache. “I don’t know. Minseok and I talked about me getting back to making music, I think maybe last month, or a bit before. I didn’t think anything of it then, but. Then this, in a dream. It just came to me.”

Chanyeol is smiling at him, though Junmyeon doesn’t feel like it’s deserved. “It’s good, it’s  _ so good.  _ I’m not just saying that because it’s my melody, I mean it, Junmyeon. You should release it.”

And that’s just it.

Junmyeon’s face pinches, and he leans back against the wall, covering his face with his arms as he tries to not get overwhelmed, mostly failing as he feels his tears making his sleeves damp.

“Hyung? What’s wrong?” Chanyeol says, sounding startled. Junmyeon feels his hand lightly touching his knee, and he feels so  _ pathetic,  _ crying even more, knowing the song is  _ good,  _ but.

It feels wrong. To want to do it, to move on when he doesn’t deserve it. 

“Everything,” he says, answering Chanyeol’s question, and he cries, rubbing his eyes against his sleeves, struggling to get a grip on himself.

“No, it’s good,” Chanyeol says, not understanding what Junmyeon had been referring to. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”   
He shakes his head, sniffing and crying still as he slumps forward again, uncovering his face despite the mess he knows it is. He cries, says, “No, I mean. I don’t know why I’m feeling this way.”

“What way?”

Junmyeon’s breath hitches in his throat, and he exhales shakily, “Like. Knowing it’s good, and knowing that it’s for me. But, also knowing Minseok can’t do it with me. I feel so guilty, but. I want to do it.”

Chanyeol doesn’t say anything for many moments. Junmyeon doesn’t blame him; he’s a  _ mess,  _ and he wouldn’t know how to deal with his outburst, either. Eventually, he says kindly, “I don’t think Minseok hyung is the type to discourage you. Knowing him, he’d be the first to support you, too.”

“He did,” Junmyeon says. “He said it. He’d be with me if I ever did it again.”

“Then, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Junmyeon says. He exhales shakily again, his chest stinging with everything he’s feeling. “Maybe it’s survivor’s guilt, or. I don’t know.”

_ Maybe it’s because I love him, and I don’t want to do anything wrong that might hurt him. _

Chanyeol smiles at him, kindly and sadly, like he knows what Junmyeon must be thinking. “Hyung cares so much about you. He knows that whatever happened, it wasn’t any of our faults. Especially not yours.”

“It doesn’t make me feel any less bad about it, though.”

Chanyeol looks at him sympathetically, with too much patience than Junmyeon is worth. Junmyeon feels particularly worthless, like all the months of working through his shit with Kyungsoo, all the progress he’d thought he’d made with everything he’d been feeling, had crashed down because of his selfishness. He didn’t even mean to feel it, didn’t even  _ mean  _ to find this song, and make it. 

He’s so confused.

“There’s no rush, hyung,” Chanyeol tells him, saying each word carefully, kindly. “The song is yours, but you should think about it well. Talk to Minseok about it too? Because from what I see, you really want it. There’s no shame in that. Maybe you need to have something that can be yours, to show that you survived the incident too.”

Junmyeon sighs, frowning at himself. “I obviously survived. I'm walking and everything. I’m not the victim.”

Chanyeol looks at him. He smiles in a way Junmyeon can’t completely read, but he knows him well enough that everything is tinged with understanding, and sadness. 

“You know, after the incident, it had been. It had been really hard, but Minseok was so kind to me. He helped me a lot, and he introduced me to a senior producer of the company,” he begins to say, going through the words slowly, his smile growing wider, more at peace. “We got to talking. And, it’s not much, it’s nothing like Minseok proving everyone wrong by walking as soon as he did, or talking again like he never got into an accident in the first place, but. I might take the studio off the ground, for real this time.”

Junmyeon looks at him, and he feels a surge of pride fill him up. “Chanyeol, that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you,” he tells him, and while he doesn’t know how it relates to his situation, or if Chanyeol is shifting the focus so Junmyeon won’t dwell. Regardless, Junmyeon is so  _ happy  _ for him. Had always wanted him to pursue this, really explore his talent and potential. It’s so deserved.

Minseok. All while recovering and healing and working his ass off to get to where he is healthwise, he’d been checking in on Chanyeol, and Junmyeon suspects, Baekhyun, and many more others. Helping them heal from something that had been so traumatic, especially to him, and Junmyeon cannot be any more in love with him. He’s so grateful to have him in his life.

Chanyeol smiles, dimples deep and eyes bright when he looks at Junmyeon when he tells him, “I’m proud of you too, hyung, whatever you choose to do. Just think about it.”

And Junmyeon does. Eventually, after a few weeks of mustering up his courage, and thinking and thinking it through, over and over again, he sits Minseok down, and lets him listen to the rough demo he and Chanyeol had patched together. 

Junmyeon could see the surprise in Minseok’s eyes when the first notes had played, blooming into something bright, proud, and as soon as it’s over, Minseok says, “Baby. You should release it, it’s incredible.”

Junmyeon shakes his head, “It’s, it’s not ready.”

Minseok pauses, looks at him, and asks, “Are you just saying that because you’re scared?”

It hits a little close to home. “Of course I’m scared, you’re not doing it with me.”

“I  _ am  _ with you, you know.”

_But it’s different and you know it,_ he thinks, but he doesn’t say it out loud. Instead, with regret filling his chest, he says, “Can we drop it? Please?”

Minseok watches him, and he comes in a little closer, voice soft as he asks, “Do you want to do it?”

Junmyeon swallows, doesn’t know how to encapsulate everything he’s feeling. He thought he’d been looking for validation, and approval and blessings, but now that he has it. Things still aren’t settling into place. 

He wants to do it, but. 

“Min,” he tries, but Minseok is persistent, respectful as he looks carefully at Junmyeon.

“Please tell me honestly,” Minseok asks him, and Junmyeon breaks a little.

“I do. I do,” he says, voice breaking, overwhelmed once again. “But I can barely wrap my head around it, I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Baby,” Minseok says gently, tries to reach for him, but Junmyeon backs away, shaking his head as his eyes sting.

“Please, Min, not tonight.”

“Then why’d you show it to me?” Minseok asks him.

And Junmyeon pauses, stills in his seat. He knows in his heart that he showed it to him because he wanted Minseok to tell him it’s okay to want it. It’s okay to keep moving forward, and here is Minseok giving it to him. 

But somehow, despite everyone telling him  _ yes,  _ there’s something in his heart that overflows with guilt. It keeps holding him back, and it feels crushing. 

.

Yixing calls him to a private meeting, and Junmyeon doesn’t know what to expect as he walks into his office. 

He very much doesn’t expect it when Yixing starts off with after greeting him and asking how he’s doing, “It’s come to my attention that you’ve made some new music?”

Junmyeon freezes. “Who told you that? Was it Minseok? Don’t listen to him.”

Yixing looks at him, and he says carefully, “Or. Are you not listening to him? It’s coming up almost seven months since the accident. I’m not telling you to rush into anything, but maybe you need to  _ really  _ listen to what you’re producing and realize you’re ready.”

Junmyeon doesn’t know what to say to that. He swallows, not knowing what to make of it, feeling indignant that Minseok would tell Yixing behind his back, feeling confused . “I don’t know.”

Yixing watches him thoughtfully, and he asks him, “Would you be okay with letting me hear it?”

Junmyeon doesn’t know what to do. Part of him wants to say no, and he knows Yixing would understand, but. He can’t quite deny that there is an overwhelming urge to have someone else hear it, have it be  _ listened to,  _ and Junmyeon is conflicted.

He thinks about it for a moment, going back and forth within himself, just trying to understand how he feels. But, he’s bringing out his phone, and opens the file he’d saved.

Junmyeon can’t look up to watch his face as he listens to the song, just stares hard at his lap, clenching his hands into fists. The song washes over him, the lyrics even more vivid than they had been in his dream, deeply personal and melodic and. So much said, in one song. 

It’s silent for a moment when the song trails off. Junmyeon doesn’t know what Yixing will say, what he thinks of it.

Eventually, Yixing breaks the silence, “Junmyeon, I don't need to tell you what you already know. It’s good. Something like this, it doesn’t need to wait.”

Junmyeon feels like his chest is splitting. “It’s still too soon for me.”

“I understand. But the offer is always there,” Yixing tells him, letting it go. 

Junmyeon feels like he can’t breathe until he’s out of the office, back in his car in the basement parking, and he sits still in the driver’s seat, feeling himself tremble. He doesn’t even start the car, bringing out his phone again and he looks for a number, and waits until a soft,  _ “Hello? Myeonnie?”  _ is uttered on the other side of the line.

“You talked to Xing?” he says, his tone coming out a lot sharper than he intends, but he goes on, “You told him about the song?”

Minseok makes a soft noise, and he says quietly,  _ “I just mentioned it in passing.” _

“Minseok, that wasn’t okay,” Junmyeon says, feeling his anger bubbling up even though he tries to suppress it. “You shouldn’t have told him behind my back. I’ll do it when I’m ready.”

_ “I’m sorry, I just wanted to help-” _

“Well you’re  _ not,” _ Junmyeon says, and it comes out, barbed, harsh on his tongue and even sharper in his ears. It stings, and he collapses against the chair, a tightness spreading across his chest as it fills with regret at the tone he’d used. 

Minseok is quiet for several moments, before he says meekly,  _ “I’m sorry.” _

“I’m sorry,” he says, feeling deflated, embarrassed that he’d let himself slip like that. “I shouldn’t have said that. I know you’re just doing what you can to help me.”

_ “It’s okay, I deserved it,”  _ even though Junmyeon knows he doesn’t. _ “I shouldn’t have pushed. I’m sorry.” _

“It’s okay,” Junmyeon says, sighing a little, feeling tired. 

He doesn’t know what else to say. It’s then that he remembers what Kyungsoo had mentioned before during one of their sessions.

_ There’s a difference between pressuring someone, and trying to lift them up so they can take their steps to where they need to be. It will take some time before we get used to differentiating, but try to be a little open.  _

_ “Myeon,”  _ Minseok says quietly, carefully,  _ “Are you okay?” _

Junmyeon breathes, lets go. His mind clears, and his chest calms slightly. He breathes again, and shifts the conversation flow, “Yeah. I’m okay. I’ll bring over some dinner tonight.”

Minseok hums, and Junmyeon can hear his smile through the phone. Minseok  _ always  _ lifts him, and Junmyeon trusts him.

.

It takes him more than two weeks, before he gathers himself, and goes back to Yixing, Baekhyun and Chanyeol in tow for support as he meet with some of the A&R team, and many of Yixing’s staff as he presents them with a more polished version of the demo he and Chanyeol had made.

Baekhyun gives them a look, surprised and impressed as he listens, and Junmyeon’s chest pounds in nervousness. 

They compliment Chanyeol heavily, as deserved. They tell him they’ll be following the studio with eager ears. Chanyeol burns bright red.

They ask Junmyeon when he wants to debut, more or less a confirmation that the song is good, that  _ yes,  _ it’s more than ready to be released.

It takes him a moment to understand the question they’d asked, and he shakes his head. “Not a solo. I’ll promote as EX-ES, still.”

Everyone is stunned. They ask him if he’s sure, to go on with the name, though the ‘EX’ is no longer active.

He swallows, and remembers the wistful look on Minseok’s face all those months ago when he had admitted all these thoughts to him.

“I’m sure,” he answers, feeling sure in at least this.

They’re generous with him, and give him a little more than four months to prepare for it. It’s a lot of time, by their standards, but even then, Junmyeon still feels like it won’t be enough to be really ready. 

By the time he comes back, it will be just a year since the incident. 

The days are getting colder, and he doesn’t know what to make of it all. 

It’s in the car later on, as he’s seated in the backseat, texting Minseok about what had happened, unable to sit still and wait to call him after his session with Sehun, when Chanyeol and Baekhyun, who had been mostly silent since they’d left the company ask him, “How are you feeling, hyung?”

Junmyeon’s fingers pause on his phone screen, and he thinks for a moment, before he answers. “A bit of everything, I think.”

“So. The two of you worked on it together,” Baekhyun says, looking back at him, then next to him, where Chanyeol is diving, eyes on the road. 

“Well. Mostly, it was just hyung. He had the whole thing in his head already. I just helped him translate it,” Chanyeol says, even though he’d done much more than that. Junmyeon doesn’t have a chance to correct him when he adds, “What did you think of it?”

“It’s perfect. It’s, it’s exactly the kind of song that’s needed, after everything that had happened,” Baekhyun replies. But he looks back still, watching Junmyeon. “I just. I hope you’re doing this because you really want to, for yourself.”

“I do,” Junmyeon says. “I want it. I just have a lot to work through, aside from wanting it.”

Baekhyun nods, taking a moment before he says, “I hope it’s not because of guilt, or because you think you owe it to Minseok hyung, or anyone else even.”

“Well,” Junmyeon says, sighing. He can’t quite deny that part of it, even just the smallest sliver, is because of Minseok. He doesn’t continue, but they seem to understand.

“You know, we’ll support you, as we’ve always done, hyung,” Baekhyun says. He pauses, seems to gather his thoughts, before he continues carefully. “But don’t feel too pressured. It seems pretty clear that he’ll love you through anything you decide to do.”

Junmyeon stills. He swallows heavily, blinking rapidly, and while he was sure they had some sort of inkling of what had happened to him, it’s still different. Knowing that they know, and they’re not treated any differently. 

He breathes, exhales, and says, “I know. I know he would, but. I want to do this, not just for myself. For both of us.”

Baekhyun looks at him, and Junmyeon sees his understanding on his face. Knows what he means. “If you’re sure.”

And while he’s a little scared, Junmyeon knows he wants it. Knows he needs it. 

.

It’s slow going initially, in the first month. Rerecording the song and polishing it with Chanyeol and a team of a few more producers from his newly-established studio, then writing other songs, listening to potential B-side tracks and approving them until they have a final list. Rewriting lyrics, recording, and more recording. 

Initially, it had seemed like Junmyeon  _ could  _ do this. Even though Minseok’s absence in the recording studio, in the meetings for the tracklist and album concept, in the practice room when he begins rehearsals with Jongin for the choreography, is undeniably felt, Minseok doesn’t fall short of showing him his support. Giving him his opinions about the songs he’s choosing for the list, praising him for the lyric rewrites he’d done, even going to the company to visit him, watch him as he practices the dance, and dropping by the studio when he can to watch him record.

Most of all, being his  _ home  _ whenever the day is too long and he can barely open his eyes, making sure he’s taking care of himself, pulling him into bed and giving him even just a few hours of respite and calm. 

He’s been nothing short of  _ amazing.  _

Then, slowly, slowly, then all at once, it becomes too much. 

Hours and hours of practice and not having anyone to really  _ be with,  _ suffering through Jongin’s choreo together, or no one to really talk to while he’s having hair and makeup done, not one to laugh with about how much eye makeup they have on their eyes, no one to tease him about his shots for the jacket, just being  _ alone.  _

He knows he has people around him. But it’s  _ different,  _ because none of those people  _ understand  _ how he has to carry the load by himself. None of them are Minseok.

By the second month, bleeding into the third month, the days just seem  _ too long,  _ neverending, and he wakes up after a few hours of rest just to do it all over again, always moving, never stopping, and he never has any time to  _ dwell,  _ to take in anything happening around him.

It’s been so long since he had gone to see Kyungsoo, too. There just hasn’t been much leeway for him to do so, and he didn’t think it would have  _ this much  _ of an effect on him.

Not talking about it all, everything just keeps weighing on his chest, getting heavier and heavier, until he can’t bear the weight anymore. 

It starts with missing one date, then another, and then another, until he’s missing their nights together more often than he makes it, and he’s staying at the dorm because he can’t make it back to Minseok’s place. 

Minseok,  _ Minseok,  _ the wonderful angel he is, would come to the dorm early in the mornings or at night, just so he would have some company. He’d been so patient to deal with Junmyeon’s moods and exhaustion and his occasional snapping because of the lack of sleep or the rigorous diet and exercise plan and the constant fullness of his mind, overflowing with everything he needs to do, everything he needs to  _ prove,  _ that he can do this alone, that it’s not too soon, that things will go well, that he’s not in over his head.

He’s passed being just stressed. He’s  _ over it. _

And it gets ugly, so quickly, and Junmyeon doesn’t even remember how he had taken Minseok’s gentle pleas for him to get ready for bed so negatively, doesn’t remember how they had started fighting, or what they were even talking about, only for it to spiral because he didn’t know how to deal. 

“Junmyeon, you’ll get sick,” Minseok tries again, still keeping his voice low and calm for him, doing his best not to aggravate him even more, trying to take his hands in his, but Junmyeon just huffs, pulls away, falling deeper into himself. And he knows that he’s not acting fairly, he shouldn’t treat Minseok like this, knows he’s just trying to help make him feel better, but. Junmyeon doesn’t care, he  _ doesn’t care.  _ “Please, I’ll get out of your hair, I’ll leave if you want, but please wash off before going to bed, you shouldn’t get sick-”

He scoffs, like poison on his tongue, “Yeah, of course. Shouldn’t miss a practice day, huh?”

“No, I just don’t want you to get sick,” Minseok says, eyes so  _ sad  _ at Junmyeon’s tone, but he keeps his voice soft, trying to appease him even a little. 

And Junmyeon. Just, feels himself  _ crash,  _ all the weight that had been sitting heavily in his chest, unable to bear it any longer, tumbling straight to the pit of his stomach, falling on top of each other, making him full of  _ venom,  _ and he detests it, detests himself, just.  _ Everything. _

And he knows that this frustration is mostly at himself, knows he should just find another way to relieve it all, but he’s doing the exact thing he promised he’d never do, no matter how difficult things would get.

He’s taking it out on Minseok.

“Junmyeon, baby, please talk to me,” Minseok says, pleads. “I don’t understand. Will you tell me why you’re upset?”

Junmyeon swallows heavily, feeling so weighed down by his thoughts and he  _ can’t  _ tell Minseok, he can’t tell him because he doesn’t know what has him feeling so poorly, and he wants him to leave, just doesn’t want to drag him into the pit he’d made for himself. “Please, just go.”

“Junmyeon, no,” Minseok says, eyebrows furrowed and his mouth set in a frown, “I can’t leave you like this. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know I can’t just leave when you’re obviously hurting.”

Junmyeon stares at him,  _ “I’m hurting?  _ Do I like hurt?”

Minseok looks at him, unsure of what to say, or how to reply. “I, I don’t understand, what-“

“Why don’t you understand?” Junmyeon says, blood boiling. “Try doing this yourself.”

Minseok’s eyes are shining, and he says quietly, “Junmyeon. Baby, I. I’m sorry, I really doing understand-“

_ “I’m not hurting,”  _ Junmyeon says, enunciates every syllable so Minseok doesn’t miss. “I’m not the one hurt, so obviously, I’m the one doing all this.”

“I know I can’t do it with you,” Minseok says, and he’s obviously hurt, but he just looks at him, too patient and forgiving than Junmyeon deserves. “I know that. I know I can’t.”

“That’s not it,” Junmyeon says, huffing to himself, and he’s screaming in his head,  _ ‘Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking, stop ruining things.’ _

He’s trying. He’s trying  _ so hard,  _ but. It feels as if the patience and tolerance he’d prided himself in, it’s gone. 

Like he’d left it on the tarmac of the road, that cold night. 

“It kind of sounds like it,” Minseok says, but he doesn’t let his tone slip. Stays calm, stays present for Junmyeon, never accusing him. “I just want to know why you’re so upset.”

Junmyeon wants to cry, frustrated that he can’t encapsulate everything into words so that Minseok, so that  _ anyone,  _ would understand. He feels so  _ alone.  _ “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Please, let me try.”

He breathes hard, “Why do I have to do this? Why did I agree to this? I’m  _ crushing  _ myself.”

He sees the way Minseok’s chest shudders, the way he has to pause and take several moments to think of what he needs to say. “I, I didn’t know I was pushing you, I’m sorry.”

And. That’s just  _ it.  _ Minseok didn’t pressure him to do this, and if anything, he’d been the one to lift him up, believe in him more to give himself that little push to keep going. But,  _ everything else,  _ all this unnecessary burden and pressure that he thinks is there, Junmyeon had brought upon himself.

But. After months of tolerating it all, thinking he was okay, he’s  _ okay,  _ he suddenly isn’t, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“People, there are so  _ many people,  _ they’ve been saying it’s too soon,” Junmyeon says, and he’s trembling. There is a tremor he feels in his body, down to his fingers, and he goes on, “And. I’ve come to think that it is. But, I’m doing this because you seemed so enthusiastic and everyone else did too, everyone just wanted me to do it. And I know I wanted it too, then, but I don’t know anymore. You tipped Yixing off and everything’s just compounding and it’s so  _ loud-” _

He can’t stop, his brain doesn’t let up, and he keeps talking spouting shit that doesn’t make much sense, nor is very true. And he wants to stop, he just wants a  _ pause,  _ just wants a little moment to breathe and make sense of everything he’s doing. 

_ I hate being alone,  _ he thinks, can feel the pain of it bubble up in his throat, making it hard to breathe. 

“I’m sorry for leaving you to do this by yourself,” Minseok is saying, his voice wet with tears, and Junmyeon starts, realizing that he had said the words aloud. His chest hurts as Minseok speaks _.  _ “I would do it with you, if I could.”

“But guess what? You  _ can’t,”  _ Junmyeon says, and he doesn’t mean anything bad by it, just means to say it as a fact, something that can’t be avoided. But, it doesn’t make it any less barbed, something he knows Minseok can’t control, and as soon as the words leave his lips, he wants to snatch them right back, burn them in his memory, never even let himself think it.

Minseok stares, and his looks  _ shattered.  _ “I. I didn’t know,  _ you  _ would say that to me.”

“Min, I’m sorry,” he says, and he feels like crying, but he knows he doesn’t deserve it.

Minseok looks angry, hurt, crushed, his eyes wet and his entire face fallen. “I thought,  _ you,  _ you of all people. You would know how much I would give to be with you.”

“I know,  _ I do know,”  _ Junmyeon says, feels himself shaking. It’s spiralling even more, and he hates himself so much. “I, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry.”

“I know it’s hard for you,” Minseok says, voice a little louder, getting louder still with every word he says, and Junmyeon watches him, tries to calm him a little, but he can see that Minseok isn’t angry anymore. He’s devastated, tears falling down his cheeks. “I know, and I know that I’m not doing enough to help you, but. It’s, it’s  _ so hard  _ for me, too.”

“Min, please, please don’t cry,” he says, chest feeling like it’s falling apart inside him. It had been so many months, since Minseok had cried over his condition. And here he is, letting the tears fall, because Junyeon couldn’t shut his mouth. “I’m sorry, I was wrong. Please-”

“I, I didn’t know you could hurt me like that,” Minseok says, sounding so heartbroken about it. Six words, words Junmyeon didn’t mean, but it doesn’t matter if he had. It had still come from his mouth, and he’d broken that bit of trust between them. The trust Minseok so generously given him, without question. 

“Min,” he tries, but Minseok shakes his head, looking down as he cries. Junmyeon feels it down to his soul, feels how  _ incompetent  _ he really is. If he had been doubting it before, there’s no doubt about it now. 

He’s useless.

He swallows his pride, tries to come closer to Minseok, but he’s stopped when Minseok turns his head, tears still falling from his eyes. Junmyeon sees him touching his high collar, pushing it down slightly to get at his neck. 

Minseok spoke so well for himself, hardly ever struggled with his speech, that it was hard to remember that he had ever been in an accident. An accident that forced him to give up a career he  _ loved,  _ that forced him to have a procedure done to his throat just so he could  _ breathe.  _ It was so easy to forget that he had ever struggled, because he hadn’t shown it, but now.

“Min, are. What do you need? How can I help?” Junmyeon asks quietly, watches helplessly as Minseok holds back his sobs, holding his neck as he tries to get his breathing back to normal.

It’s crushing, seeing him this way. Junmyeon wants to come closer, wants to hold him, wants to make him feel better. He doesn’t have the right to do any of those things, and it feels especially punishing, to not be able to help him, to not be wanted.

“I’m sorry,” he says, knowing it’s not enough, but wanting to be given a chance to do more. “I’m so sorry, Minseok. I know I did wrong, and I promise I didn’t mean it. Any of it, I was just-“

He stops when he sees Minseok, the way the tears are rolling down his cheeks still, and. He’s not accustomed to seeing him so broken. 

He had done that. Junmyeon had done that. 

He feels revolting. 

Minseok doesn’t stop crying, but he's shaking his head at him, and Junmyeon knows when he has trouble breathing, speaking is difficult. When Minseok replies, he doesn’t say the words out loud. He mouths it, telling Junmyeon,  _ ’I’ll leave.’ _

Junmyeon’s heart sinks. “No, you don’t need to, I’m sorry-”

But Minseok is shaking his head, working through his breaths slowly. He brings out his phone, making Junmyeon’s heart sink even further; it had been several months since Minseok had been forced to use his phone to communicate like this, and it makes Junmyeon feel even more like he had failed his trust,  _ ‘We’re both too wound up right now. We’ll just end up saying things we’ll regret.’ _

Junmyeon knows he’s right, and he’s already said too much. But, he doesn’t want MInseok to leave, doesn’t want to leave things like this. 

He’s scared of so many things. He doesn’t know what would happen.

He looks at Minseok, wanting to convince him to stay, but. He sees the look on his face, so  _ tired  _ and hurt, and Junmyeon feels himself deflate. He doesn’t want to push Minseok, and he sees from his expression that he needs time to himself. 

And, at least in this, Junmyeon can give this to him and be of use.

So, he swallows, breathing in and gathering himself, and he says quietly, “Okay. I’m sorry.”

Minseok looks at him, eyes shining, his lips quivering. Junmyeon blinks away his own tears, and he asks him, “Before, before you leave. Can I hold you, just for a bit?”

Minseok’s face crumples, and he nods. Junmyeon’s breath shudders, and he comes forward to reel him into his arms, holding him closely, and Minseok trembles for a moment. Then, Junmyeon feels him calm, and Minseok is curling his arms around his back, coming even closer until they’re flush together, hiccupping as he cries into Junmyeon’s neck, and Junmyeon feels like he’s being chipped away at. He holds him closer, closing his eyes, and he says quietly, “I’m sorry, baby.”

Minseok makes a small noise, and he seems to hesitate in Junmyeon’s arms, and Junmyeon knows then that he’s been holding him for long enough. He makes to pull away, but Minseok is leaning in then, lips trembling for a moment as they find Junmyeon’s, then melting into him, calming as he kisses him. 

Junmyeon freezes, but he deepens the touch, tilting his head to the side and presses against Minseok’s mouth with his own, overwhelmed but calmed altogether. 

“I love you,” Minseok mumbles in a near whisper, and Junmyeon feels like collapsing.

“I love you, so much,” he says, chest tight. “I’m sorry, I’ll always be sorry.”

Minseok sniffs, curls against him, and Junmyeon holds him for a few more moments, before he lets him go, feeling uneasy, regret filling him up to his throat, leaving not much room for anything else.

.

Junmyeon gives him space, as asked. The days become much harder to power through, but he knows he needs to give Minseok at least this.

A few days pass, wherein the most contact they had had were the messages, greeting each other good morning, bidding each other good night before going to bed, Minseok still replying even though Junmyeon would text him after three in the morning. Some exchanges, Minseok asking him how his preparations are going, and Junmyeon asking him how his therapy sessions are coming along. 

Many  _ ‘I love you’s.’  _ Many times unprompted, on both their parts. 

It’s hard, but Junmyeon knows his words aren’t to be easily forgiven. He knows it’s not just up to him if they’re okay again, and he respects and loves Minseok too much to push when he’s not ready. 

And he knows he needs the time to gather himself, as well. Make sure that he never does this again. 

He’s in the studio today with Yixing and his group of producers, Chanyeol hanging out in the back and watching as Junmyeon records another B-side. It’s a much softer song than the title, personally written by Yixing for him specifically, and he likes it a lot. It’s just, achingly bittersweet, melancholic, and Yixing had quietly suggested that if Minseok were up to it, he could record a few lines, have it be a special track on the album, but. Junmyeon doesn’t know what he would say to it. 

It makes him feel many things, and he doesn’t quite know what to say. 

He tries not to dwell on the fact that Minseok hadn’t replied when he had messaged him his usual good morning, or when he had asked him about his session with Sehun, or not even his first  _ ‘I love you’  _ for the day. Junmyeon isn’t impatient, and he knows Minseok doesn’t need to reply at once. But, Minseok seems to not have even opened his messages, and at most, he would take maybe half an hour to reply.

“Let’s take five minutes,” Yixing says, when they’re a few hours in. He waits until the room empties slightly, and until Junmyeon is sighing, exiting the booth with his chest feeling heavy, sighing and lamenting over the way he just can’t seem to get things right today, before he seats him next to him, quietly asking, “What’s wrong? You seem a little out of it.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, feeling even more disappointed in himself. “I’ll get it right, I know I’m not in top form today, I’m sorry-”

“No, Junmyeon, not that,” Yixing says, keeping his voice low. He blinks, and takes a moment to think, before he says, “Did something happen with Minseok?”

Junmyeon’s chest tightens. “It was last week. I, I said something and I hurt him.”

Yixing looks at him, and he pauses, before he asks, “Have you talked to him since then?”

He shakes his head, feeling his heart sink slightly. It feels as if it hadn’t moved from where it had fallen to his stomach since the last time they had spoken. “Just messages. I don’t blame him, if he doesn’t want to see me.”

Yixing hums quietly, offering, “Whatever it is, I’m sure things will work out. Just have to be a little patient.”

Junmyeon swallows. “I don’t know if I deserve it.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Yixing says, doesn’t leave him time to answer when he continues, “We’re all just trying to figure things out as best as we can. There will be times when we slip, but if we take it to heart, sometimes, it weighs us down so much we sometimes forget to grow. You deserve good things, Junmyeon. You both do. I can see you’re trying, and you’ve done really well. Keep going.”

And he breathes, taking in Yixing’s words quietly. Hopes that they can be for him, too.

But, with the way Minseok had looked at him, his devastation, looking so  _ betrayed  _ by what Junmyeon had let slip, it’s hard to even think that he deserves it. 

He makes to go back to the booth as the other producers and staff come back into the room to resume recording, but Chanyeol is rushing back into the studio, eyes wide and frantic and lips trembling, and Junmyeon looks at him, and something,  _ something is wrong.  _

“Hyung,” he says, voice shaky, “I, I’m sorry, but. Minseok hyung, he. Something happened, he’s in the hospital-“

Everything stops. 

And Junmyeon doesn’t remember moving, or Yixing standing up and calling the session off, guiding Junmyeon and Chanyeol to the car so they can leave right away, or the way he keeps telling Junmyeon,  _ “He’s okay, he’s okay. Go to him, he needs you, he’s okay-” _

He doesn’t remember anything. Just the terror in his chest that makes him freeze in the passenger seat, not even being able to move aside from the trembling of his hands. He wants to cry,  _ feels  _ the urge to deep in his soul, but his body is too locked up to do anything but stay still, on edge as Chanyeol gets them to the hospital Baekhyun had brought Minseok to.

_ No. No, no, please no. Please, don’t let it be something serious, please be okay, please be okay, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I love you, please be okay- _

It feels too long, and also barely moments, before they get to the hospital. They’re practically running to the private rooms, searching for the one Baekhyun had specified in his text, and when they get there, Junmyeon sliding the door open, he feels like collapsing.

He didn’t think he’d see Minseok back on a hospital bed, looking tired, weakened, even  _ embarrassed,  _ turning his head to face the window as soon as he sees who’d arrived, making Junmyeon’s chest ache.

He looks small. Junmyeon feels himself shake.

“Shit, we got here as soon as we could. Yixing’s following in a bit,” Chanyeol says for him, and Junmyeon thanks him quietly in his head, finding that he’s still unable to speak himself. He looks on at Minseok, who still isn’t looking at him, and Junmyeon feels like he’s being chipped away at, shards of his chest falling to the pit of his stomach, feeling so  _ sad,  _ heartbroken, pained. Can’t believe Minseok has to be in pain like this, again, after he had worked so hard.

Junmyeon feels shattered, with him.

“Sorry we cut your recording short,” Baekhyun tells them, voice soft as he sits on a chair next to Minseok’s bed. “Maybe I should have told you later on-”

Junmyeon shakes his head instantly, unable to even swallow down the sob that erupts from his chest. To not be here, when Minseok is like this, he won’t allow himself the possibility, won’t entertain the thought.

It doesn’t matter what had happened, or how severe or minor the injury. He had meant it, when he had said that Minseok would always have him. 

And he says just as much, “What’s the point of anything I’m doing if I can’t be with you? Here, for you?”

It’s quiet. Minseok still doesn’t look at him, and Junmyeon can’t see much of his face much, but he does see the way Minseok’s hands squeeze into tight fists, and the way his chest seems to shudder.

He breathes, and asks, “What happened?”

He doesn’t know if Minseok will answer. He expects Baekhyun to reply, more likely, but he doesn’t expect for someone else to say, “Well, we don’t really know.”

It’s Jongin, who had been standing against the wall, silent up until that moment. Junmyeon stares at him, confused as to why he’s here, but his chest filling with dread regardless, telling him something is deeply, deeply wrong. “You don’t know what happened?”

Jongin looks at him, shifting a little on his feet. He looks sad, glancing over at Minseok, who still won’t look at any of them, and he tells Junmyeon in a low tone, “I don’t know. But, it’s his leg. When I found him, he couldn’t move it from severe pain.”

He pauses, doesn’t speak for a long time, like there’s something on the tip of his tongue, but there’s something holding him back from revealing more. He hesitates, looks at Junmyeon, then at Minseok, and he goes quiet again, and Junmyeon doesn’t know if he can feel any more apprehensive. 

“Jongin,” he says, leaning in and barely speaking above a murmur, keeping his tone calm even though he feels like falling to the ground at any moment. “What is it?”

Jongin looks at him sadly, hesitating. Then, he’s leaning in, and answers in a whisper Junmyeon won’t soon forget. 

“I found him in the practice room. He was on the floor.”

And it’s immediate. Junmyeon  _ knows  _ what had happened, what Minseok was trying to do, what he was trying to prove to himself, and maybe, to some extent, to Junmyeon too. 

Junmyeon feels himself shatter, feeling worthless, feeling  _ horrible. _

The room is quiet, and Junmyeon is trembling, almost swaying on the spot if not for Chanyeol holding him up, though he feels like collapsing to the ground. 

Minseok faces the window firmly, and Junmyeon can’t tell what he’s thinking. 

It’s another few minutes before anyone says anything, and the silence is broken only by Chanyeol’s phone going off. He answers, and they can hear that it’s Yixing, saying that he’s in the parking lot and will be up in a bit.

Junmyeon swallows, and looks on at Minseok. The room is getting stuffier, and he loves everyone here. Trusts them all. 

But. He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but a little bit of silence with his love, if only just to sit next to him, even if he’s ignored. He wants it, wants to have Minseok even just for a bit, just to let him know he’s here. He will always be here. 

Junmyeon doesn’t know how Chanyeol  _ knows,  _ but he’s saying, “Actually, we’ll go down to meet you down there. Minseok said he wanted some things from the cafeteria, and Junmyeon hasn’t eaten today yet, so we’ll get him a meal to go, too.”

And Yixing, somehow, he gets it too.  _ “Oh, sure. I’ll meet you there.” _

And this is how the three leave the room quietly, giving him encouraging expressions, and he appreciates them all. But all he sees is Minseok. 

All he’s known is this life, unpredictable and tiring and inconsistent and unstable and dangerous, but Minseok at the center of it, light and warmth and guidance and love, and he’d failed him. Junmyeon had hurt him, and it’s more than likely that because of him, Minseok had pushed himself more than he knew he should. 

Junmyeon wants to cry. He doesn’t, knows he doesn’t deserve the relief it would give him. 

He stands, braves a step closer to the foot of the bed, and it takes every ounce of courage he has left in him to come even closer, and say in a voice too soft, “I’m sorry.”

Silence meets his words, and Minseok doesn’t move. 

Junmyeon swallows, eyes stinging, but he forces them not to spill, and he asks quietly, “Do you want me to leave?”

There is a long pause in which nothing is said, and no one moves. And Junmyeon breathes to himself, feels like he’s being chipped away at even more, and this, he can understand. He knows he’s not wanted here.

He makes to leave, but then, Minseok moves slightly.

Junmyeon looks up in time to see him shake his head slightly. Barely a motion, but. It’s enough to make him pause where he is, and he looks on, unsure if he’d really seen Minseok shake his head to let him stay.

But. He wants to. He wants to stay, wants to believe that Minseok wouldn’t want him to leave.

Junmyeon doesn’t know what to do. 

But Minseok gives him his answer, simply. “Don’t go,” in a low murmur, raspy, tired. Heartbroken.

Junmyeon feels as if there is a lump in his throat, and he blinks away his tears, asks, “Are, are you sure?”

Minseok breathes in deeply, exhaling in a shudder, “Please stay. With me.”

Junmyeon breathes. He comes closer, and he looks at the seat Baekhyun had vacated. He swallows, asks him softly, “Can I sit here?”

Minseok is quiet, before he answers, “Okay.”

Junmyeon trembles, seats himself down next to him, moving the chair slightly closer, but still wanting to respect Minseok’s space. He can see his face, blank, still looking out, evidence of tears left in the tracks of wetness that are left on his skin, running down from the corner of his eyes, down into his hair. 

It makes his heart sink even more. 

It’s quiet between the two of them for several minutes. It feels slightly stifling, but Junmyeon works through it, building himself to ask him, “How are you feeling?”

Minseok hums softly, sounding resigned. “Tired,” he says, blinking once, twice, and his eyes are brighter, shining. “Sad.”

Junmyeon’s chest goes tighter, still. “I’m sorry,” he says again, knows it’s inadequate, but he says it anyway.

“You don’t need to be,” Minseok says quietly. 

Junmyeon shakes his head, “I do. I need to, because. I said what I said, and. I, I must have pushed you, in a way, to do this. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It was my choice, it wasn’t your fault my leg wasn’t strong enough to get through just a few of our songs,” Minseok says, and he sounds so  _ tired _ . Junmyeon isn’t used to hearing him this way; it’s not as if Minseok’s recovery had been painless and without his weak moments, but it’s different. 

Minseok hadn’t ever allowed himself to sound  _ defeated.  _

That is, until now.

Junmyeon’s heart crumbles into his ribcage, says meekly, “You should still be mad at me.”

“I’m not.”

“You won’t even look at me,” Junmyeon says, swallowing heavily.

“Because I’m  _ ashamed,”  _ Minseok says, his voice breaking. 

Everything falls silent. Junmyeon feels like falling to the floor, and he doesn’t know what to do. His chest aches, and the tears fall from his eyes without his permission, and he feels Minseok’s anguish, his heartbreak so viscerally in himself, wishes he could take it all from Minseok, at least give him some peace, in this way.

But he can’t. He’s still useless, even in this.

“I should be the one ashamed, Min,” he says, but Minseok just shakes his head.

“I didn’t think I could be back here, after all the work I had put in to get out,” he replies. Junmyeon sees the way he just  _ deflates,  _ disappointed in himself, like. Any fight he had had, everything he had built up for himself, leaves him in an instant, because it had become very real for him, that he wouldn't be the same as he was. He looks at Junmyeon then, and Junmyeon feels his heart claw up his throat when he sees his eyes filmed over with tears, lips trembling. Despairing everything he had lost, and his voice shudders as he breathes, saying, “You were right.”

Junmyeon feels like collapsing, and he shakes his head, wanting to say he isn’t, he’s  _ wrong,  _ Minseok could do anything he wanted, but. The words don’t come out, and instead, it’s more tears that flow out of him insead, but doesn’t make a sound, aside from asking in as steady a voice he can muster, “Can I come closer?”

Another pause, and Minseok nods. Junmyeon moves the seat closer to him, unsure of how close he can come, but. Minseok is bringing one hand down from where they’d been resting on top of his belly, opening up to reveal his palm, offering it to Junmyeon.

Junmyeon trembles. Moves the chair even closer, brings the railing down carefully, and holds Minseok’s hand. His chest aches with everything he’s feeling, but he breathes slowly, looks at Minseok, sees his worn, conceded expression, like any spirit he had left had left him, and Junmyeon knows that even just for today,  _ especially  _ for today, he needs to be the stronger one. 

He doesn’t say anything. Neither does Minseok. Junmyeon knows, just between them, Minseok needs the space to be sad, to succumb to his disappointment even just for a moment, and  _ give up,  _ just be hurt and take it in before he can wake up tomorrow and get to work again. And he gives him this, he will give him this.

He is with him when Minseok allows himself to cry, breath coming out in shudders as he sobs, tears running down profusely, and Junmyeon’s heart breaks with him. He holds him tighter, and Minseok cries harder, face crumpling as he takes in the grief, letting it wash over him.

Junmyeon cries with him, holds him, and he leans in, wanting to comfort him in any way he can. He brings up his other hand to cup Minseok’s cheek, but he pauses. Hesitates to bring it closer, not knowing if Minseok would even let him hold him in this way, but as his hand hovers, Minseok is then holding it to his cheek. His hand trembles on Junmyeon’s, but he doesn’t let go; he moves his head to press his lips into Junmyeon’s palm, kissing it, and crying against his hand, tears that come one after the other, heartbroken, overwhelmed.

Junmyeon’s breath leaves him in a shaky exhale, and he leans in, resting his forehead against Minseok’s, staying with him. He cries with him, moving his other hand down to touch his injured leg tenderly, and they cry together, silent, giving in, just this once.

.

Junmyeon helps Minseok settle back in his apartment when he gets discharged. He’s still able to walk, not without pain, but he hadn’t been told he would need the chair or crutches, so it’s still better news than what anyone had expected. He’d been instructed to not stress his leg too much, so it had meant nothing too vigorous or demanding. 

Definitely no dancing. Not for a very long time, and never again in the way Minseok is used to.

It had been crushing, to see the way Minseok’s face had fallen, but like he had resigned to it, was something he had already known. 

“Do you need anything, Min?” he asks, every other hour, every other minute since they had come back to Minseok’s place. Each time, Minseok would just shake his head, or say, “No. I’m okay.” It’s the same response, when they had dinner, when they cleaned up together, when Junmyeon had offered to help him in the bathroom to get ready for bed, and every other time. 

It’s still awkward, unsure between them. Junmyeon can’t quite say that things had really improved much, since the hospital, but. They’re not doing any worse, so it’s enough. 

This is enough, for him. 

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” he asks, like he had so many times these past few hours. when Minseok comes out of the bathroom, showered, dressed in his sleep clothes, looking so soft and tired. 

Minseok shakes his head, like every other time before. “I’m okay. Thank you, Myeon.”

Junmyeon nods, understanding. He’s done as much as he can for the night, and he hopes he can be more useful tomorrow. “Okay, then. I’ll let you rest-”

He makes to leave, but before he can take a step. There are arms curling around his back, and warmth envelopes him. 

Minseok smells like soft linens and home, quiet in his arms, his face tucked into Junmyeon’s neck, holding him close, and Junmyeon didn’t think he would have missed Minseok’s embrace as much as he did in that moment. 

Junmyeon melts into him, and he had been wrong. 

It hadn’t been enough.

Minseok leans back slightly, and his gaze is still weary, but in his eyes, Junmyeon still finds love for him, despite it all. It makes his chest grow full, ballooning with relief and gentle joy and love, and he hopes he could be enough.

Minseok leans in, and when his lips press against Junmyeon’s, fitting against his mouth like they were made from the same mound of clay, always meant to find each other and come home, Junmyeon trembles, sighing and gasping into Minseok’s mouth as his tongue slips in, tasting him, curling around his tongue and making the air that much warmer. 

Junmyeon moans quietly, tilting his head slightly so Minseok can lick into him more easily, parting his lips and feeling Minseok’s tongue run against his teeth, thn tangling together with his own tongue, and it’s melting, soft, intimate and tender. 

“Minnie?” he breathes, breath coming out a little struggled as they part.

Minseok’s eyes are shining, and he breathes slowly. He doesn’t look away from Junmyeon’s gaze, “Stay, please. Please. Come to bed with me.”

And Junmyeon will never say no to him. Would do anything,  _ anything,  _ for him.

Minseok takes off his clothes, and Junmyeon follows, and when they get to the bed, Junmyeon assumes, for Minseok’s leg, that he would come to blanket himself over Minseok, let his leg rest as Junmyeon did the work, which he’d be more than happy to do. 

But. He blinks as Minseok guides him down to get on the bed first, and Junmyeon blinks, confused as he’s made to lie on his back, watching with concerned eyes as Minseok breathes slowly, maneuvering his way on top of him.

“Min, baby?” Junmyeon says, but Minseok leans down to kiss him, molding their lips together, humming into each other’s mouths. Minseok is warm on to pof him, soft, if a little too careful. Junmyeon watches, tries not to move too much under him, spreading his legs wider so Minseok can fit more comfortably between them.

Minseok’s hands are hot on his sides as they glide down, hottest around his cock, and Junmyeon groans as Minseok pulls him off, stroking his length slowly, once, twice, before he’s slicking up his palm with lube, and when his cock drops on top of Junmyeon’s, sliding against each other, they both moan, grinding together, getting hard together.

“Oh,  _ oh,  _ Minseok,” Junmyeon sighs, breath cutting off in a moan as Minseok fucks his hips forward against him, his stiff cock feeling so  _ good  _ against Junmyeon’s own, making his ass ache to be filled. “Yeah, baby-”

“That’s it, get hard for me,” Minseok says, groaning as he pumps his hips, the friction of their cocks sliding together delicious, gentle. 

Junmyeon moans for him, sinking into the sheets and closing his eyes as they move together, and while the slide is dry, not the most comfortable, Minseok hums into his ear, murmuring tender filthy praise for him as they grind together. It’s moments later when Minseok’s hand, now slicked with lube, moves down, taking their cocks together and stroking as best as he can, though his fingers aren’t quite long enough to fit around both of them properly. But it feels so  _ good,  _ regardless, Junmyeon whining as Minseok strokes them together, getting them harder and harder.

“Min,  _ yes, yes baby,”  _ he breathes, and Minseok leans down to kiss him. Junmyeon trembles, gasps as Minseok’s fingers move down further, past his balls and then right where he’s hottest, tracing his hole, then plunging right in, slowly, up until the knuckle. 

He moans from deep within his chest, arching into Minseok’s body as he fingers him open, and Minseok does quick work of it, but his motions are so gentle, pushing his fingers carefully, his free hand on Junmyeon hip and calming him as he stretches him for his cock. Minseok watches him with a warm gaze, loving and affectionate as he pushes his fingers into him, and Junmyeon feels his cheeks go pink, moaning and feeling so vulnerably open under Minseok’s eyes.

Minseok is fucking three fingers into Junmyeon’s ass, twisting in slightly to get them to fit, amking Junmyeon blush even more. It had been a while, and he knows he’s tight, but Minseok is patient as he opens him up, pushing in up until his knuckles, taking the time to make sure he’s comfortable and feeling good. 

“Ah,  _ fuck, Minseok,”  _ Junmyeon moans as Minseok brushes against  _ that  _ spot, and his ass clenches around Minseok’s fingers, and he raises his knees, pressing his feet flat on the bed as he trembles. “Baby, fuck me-”

“Yes,  _ yes, baby,”  _ he says, pulling out his fingers and reaching to roll down a condom, but Junmyeon shakes his head, gasping.

“No, no need for that. I want you to come inside me,” Junmyeon’s chest pounds, races as his cock jumps at the thought, being filled with Minseok. He burns, wants it so much. 

Minseok looks at him, presses his palm flat on Junmyeon’s belly, eyes soft as he asks, “I’m clean. But, are you sure?”

Junmyeon doesn’t pause, “I’m sure. I’m clean too.”

He watches as Minseok inhales, and exhales slowly. Watches on as his cheeks pink, and he nods, “Alright, anything for you.”

Junmyeon would do anything for him, too.

He pushes himself up, leaning back on his elbows as he watches Minseok set the condom aside, pouring more lube over his length and stroking, spreading it around. Junmyeon’s mouth fills with saliva, wanting him so  _ much,  _ and he watches with hunger as Minseok settles on top of him. Junmyeon watches, and he feels his heart pause when he sees Minseok wince minutely as he rests his weight on his injured leg for a moment as he tries to get in a good position, and if it were anyone else, they wouldn’t notice. But Junmyeon does, and his chest goes tight.

“Min? You okay?” he asks softly as Minseok gets between his legs, the barely perceptible unease still present in the line of his gently furrowed eyebrows, in the purse of his lips, and the slightly dimmed light in his eyes. 

Minseok breathes, says, “Yeah. Of course.”

Junmyeon looks at him, sees him struggle quietly as he hovers over Junmyeon, closing his eyes for too long to be considered a blink, and Junmyeon doesn’t want to let Minseok hurt himself if this is stressing out his body more than he can handle, but he doesn’t want to make Minseok feel like he can’t do this, if this is what he really wants.

He catches the second wince as Minseok leans on his knee again as he’s guiding his length to where Junmyeon is waiting for him, and it makes Junmyeon swallow, suggests gently to him, “Min, maybe. Maybe it might be easier if I go on top of you?”   
“I can do it,” Minseok replies, his tone not quite terse, but. There is a slight firmness that had not been there a few moments before.

Junmyeon swallows, “I know, but. It’s okay, you know. I-”

“Baby. Can, can I please do this?” Minseok says, voice becoming very quiet then, and Junmyeon stops speaking instantly. Looks up at Minseok’s eyes go very tender, open and  _ vulnerable,  _ and Junmyeon knows then, that this means more than Junmyeon had thought. It’s not just sex, it’s not just about wanting to stay close and comforting each other. It’s so much more than that. His chest goes tight, eyes feeling wet as Minseok continues, “Let me do this, for you? Please?”

And the answer comes easily for Junmyeon. He breathes in, spreads his legs a little wider, brings his arms up around Minseok’s shoulders to hold him close. Their foreheads meet, and Junmyeon takes the moment to just  _ breathe,  _ breathe with Minseok and calm together, and it’s silent, deeply intimate. “Of course. I. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Minseok pauses, looking at him. He swallows slowly, and his eyes are so warm, loving as they meet Junmyeon’s gaze. He kisses him gently once, letting it linger for a moment, and he answers against his lips, “I trust you. I know I won’t get hurt.”

And that makes Junmyeon’s chest almost  _ splinter,  _ painfully tight and then bursting, and he blinks away the wetness making his eyes sting, and he kisses Minseok in turn, holding him close. It’s a painful honor, to be trusted like this.

Minseok guides himself in, and Junmyeon gasps, then sighs as Minseok sinks into him, his cock filling him up, more and more until he feels his hips meet his ass. 

_ “Oh,”  _ he moans, head falling back to the pillow as Minseok pumps into him, pushing his cock into his hole in carefully measured thrusts, and he’s thick, filling him up so  _ well,  _ like he had been made to make him full like this. Junmyeon certainly feels like he’d been made to be fucked by him, have his ass be taken so  _ wonderfully,  _ gentle but steaming, and as Minseok goes a little harder just a minute later, it pushes a loud groan from deep within his chest, making him spread his legs even wider.

“Like that?” Minseok says, and he sounds so earnest Junmyeon’s sure it’s not just dirty talk, but an actual question. He’s painfully endearing, and Junmyeon loves him fiercely.   
“Yeah, I do, doing so well, baby,” he says, and while the pace isn’t at all hurried, and he  _ loves  _ it this way, Minseok goes so carefully, and he knows he can take  _ more,  _ take harder and he knows Minseok can do it. “Go ahead, baby. Fuck me harder.”

Minseok breathes in, looking down at him. His eyes are dark, and Junmyeon sees the way he’s already beading up with sweat, glowing with it. He’s so  _ sexy,  _ and Junmyeon really can’t get enough of him. Wants him near always, and any time he’s allowed to feel him in this way, it always leaves him wanting more of it “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, and he moans, making it sound extra pretty to tease. Minseok moans, and Junmyeon continues in a low voice, “Love your cock. Love it in my mouth, love it inside me like this. Made to fuck me, love it when you make me feel it.”

“Oh,  _ fuck,”  _ Minseok breathes, and he follows through. He takes Junmyeon’s hips in a firm grip, and his next thrust in is  _ rough,  _ the skin of his hips meeting Junmyeon’s ass in a loud audible slap and making his cheeks ripple, and Junmyeon moans, eyes rolling back into his head as he melts. Minseok’s next thrusts are even harder, driving his cock into him and making him  _ feel it,  _ and Junmyeon moans in a perpetual stream, arching his body into Minseok’s as he plunges his cock into his ass, cramming him  _ full.  _

“Yes,  _ fuck yes,”  _ Junmyeon moans, craning his neck back as Minseok pounds into him, and he breathes harshly as his ass is pounded into, and he’s reaching back to grab at the headboard, searching for purchase as he tries to grab the top edge, but Minseok is bringing him back to his cock so roughly, it misses his reach, but Junmyeon can’t complain. 

Can’t, when Minseok just fucks him  _ so well,  _ plowing into him so perfectly it’s all Junmyeon can do to  _ take it. _

It’s  _ so good,  _ for a long while, Minseok drilling into him with purpose, Junmyeon raising his hips as best as he can, for Minseok’s cock to  _ sink in  _ perfectly into his hole, stretching him out and splitting him in two, and Junmyeon honestly thinks he’s not very far off from coming, Minseok just fucking him  _ so good  _ and making his ass shake.

Then, Minseok is  _ fucking  _ him, ramming his cock into his hole, and then. He stops, breathing a little harder, hanging his head low, and Junmyeon feels it near his leg. The way Minseok’s can’t hold him up for much longer.

Junmyeon looks at him, concerned, but Minseok can’t seem to meet his eyes, especially when he says quietly, “Sorry, Junmyeon. I, I thought I could.”

Junmyeon’s heart splits. “Don’t apologize,” he says, reaching up to cup Minseok’s face and bringing it down to his, kissing him gently. He looks up, and his chest aches even more when he sees the way Minseok’s eyes have dimmed slightly, disappointed in himself and Junmyeon can’t let him feel that way.

“You’re doing  _ so well,”  _ he says, stroking his cheek gently. “Making me feel so good. It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“I just,” Minseok says, trudging through his thoughts to come up with the most appropriate words to convey what he feels, and Junmyeon waits patiently, until he’s continuing, “I don’t want you to feel like I’m not doing enough. Or, that you’re doing all the work. That’s not fair for you.”

Junmyeon’s heart breaks. “Oh, baby,” he says, feeling like he could cry. Even now, Minseok could think this way, when He deserves to be taken care of. 

They’re more alike than Junmyeon had even realized. 

“Hey, we’re doing it  _ together,” _ he says, and Minseok just breathes, before shrugging slightly. “Hey, come here-”

He pulls him in, and Minseok goes easily, allowing himself to be reeled into Junmyeon’s embrace, and Junmyeon moves them carefully until they’re laying on their sides, facing each other. Minseok certainly looks emotional, disappointed, but his eyes aren’t wet, and he looks mostly resigned. Junmyeon feels himself ache, and he holds him closely. “I love you. Everything about you, I love you. It doesn’t matter, everything else, whatever shortcomings you think you have, I don’t think they are. You’re  _ strong, _ and I love you.”

Minseok breathes him in, and his exhale is shaky. He leans in to kiss him, saying quietly, lovingly, “Thank you for being patient with me. I love you, too.”

Junmyeon inhales. Leans in to kiss him again, and their lips move together, sliding against each other with their saliva, and Minseok is licking into his mouth shyly, and Junmyeon lets him explore inside, his tongue moving so carefully and gently, tasting him, feeling him slowly.

Junmyeon sighs against Minseok’s lips, reaching up to hold his face more closely to his, tilting Minseok’s head slightly so the angle is more comfortable for him. He feels Minseok’s hand coming up to grip his waist, gliding down, down, his palm hot as it slides against his skin, fingers sweeping over the swell of Junmyeon’s ass, over his thigh, pausing to hitch it up slightly to cover Minseok’s, and Junmyeon breathes sharply, kissing him more deeply. 

It’s soft, then almost instantly more steaming, their kisses silky and hot as they chase each other’s lips, licking and touching and it’s a bit like emotional whiplash.

But, when they pull back, Mnseok’s eyes are brighter, and there is a small smile gracing his lips, and Junmyeon knows it’s good. They’re moving in a good direction. 

“Can you face the other way for me, baby? Please?” Minseok asks him, and Junmyeon smiles, kissing him once before he moves to follow his request, trying not to jostle the mattress too much and move Minseok’s leg. 

As soon as he’s looking out to the other side, he feels warmth enveloping him from behind, Minseok plastering his chest to his back and kissing his neck quietly, softly. Junmyeon smiles, turning his head slightly so Minseok can kiss him again.

“Lift your leg a little, baby,” Minseok says, and Junmyeon blinks, but follows, guided by Minseok’s hand just above the crook of his knee. “Oh, look at your ass,  _ fuck.” _

Junmyeon swallows, the words making his neck and chest hot, and he hitches his leg a little higher, showing Minseok how open and stretched he is for him,  _ needing  _ to be fucked full. “Go on. Don’t just look.”

He can’t see Minseok’s expression, but he’s almost completely sure he’s smiling, smirking. Junmyeon feels the head of Minseok’s cock prodding at his hole, making his throat dry with want, and when he sinks back into him, driving home and up to his balls, Junmyeon moans, his own cock jumping and spilling precome.

“Oh,  _ yes,”  _ he breathes, moaning as Minseok doesn’t wait to establish a  _ beautiful  _ pace, fucking in and out of his body, hips meeting his ass with audible, obscene slaps, making Junmyeon fuck into the air as he hammers in. “Fuck,  _ Minseok, fuck me.” _

_ “Oh, baby,”  _ Minseok moans plowing into Junmyeon from behind, cock spearing into his ass, filling up his hole, and he brings Junmyeon’s leg up even higher, spreading his cheeks further apart. Junmyeon groans, the stretch not uncomfortable, but it makes him slightly exposed, the position a little strange. But, it feels different,  _ good,  _ as Minseok pistons his cock into him, the bed creaking beneath them as they move and fuck, and Minseok is so  _ thick,  _ his cock so hard and cramming into him so perfectly it knocks the breath out of him. Junmyeon groans as he’s fucked, his ass bouncing with Minseok’s powerful thrusts, and he moans even more as Minseok’s own sounds of pleasure are fed directly into his ear, groans and grunts as he fucks Junmyeon’s ass, murmurs filthy and sweet as he fills him.

“Oh, baby, ass so  _ tight,”  _ Minseok says, pumping into him, mattress at his mercy as he plows into Junmyeon’s ass. “So sweet, taking me so well. Want to fuck you forever.”

Oh, and Junmyeon would  _ let him,  _ it sounds like a  _ dream.  _

He can’t quite say it out loud, overwhelmed by the way he’s being railed, and it’s the most he can do to  _ whine,  _ plead for more of Minseok’s delicious cock as he stays good for him. 

“You feel so good,  _ fuck,”  _ Junmyeon whines, reaching behind himself to spread his ass for him even more, breathes leaving him in gasps as Minseok fucks him from behind, going even harder, but his pace still careful, mindful of Junmyeon, making sure he’s feeling good, that he’s comfortable.

“Does it feel good, baby?” Minseok is asking him, thrusting into him, kissing his shoulder gently. “I’m not going too hard, am I?”

Junmyeon shakes his head vigorously, whining as Minseok brings his hand down to his waist, and he’s bringing Junmyeon’s ass back to his cock as he plows forward, their bodies meeting in a slap that’s resounding and echoing against the walls around them. 

“Oh,  _ fuck, fuck me, baby,”  _ he moans, voice coming out a little higher, and Minseok hums. Tilts Junmyeon’s head back and plants his lips over Junmyeon’s panting mouth, and Junmyeon groans straight into his mouth, trying to kiss him properly, but he’s so overwhelmed by Minseok’s cock hammering into him. He reaches back, getting his hand around Minseok’s head, fingers tangling into Minseok’s hair and keeping their lips locked as he whines,  _ taking  _ Minseok’s cock, unable to do much else.

His hips ache, and he feels his body tremble, his leg shaking as he tries to keep it up for as long as he can. Minseok must feel it, see it, or just _ know,  _ because he pauses to guide his leg down to the bed, propping it down at an angle so he’s more comfortable. Junmyeon’s breath comes out in shudders, relief and gratitude and love, and Minseok wraps his arm around his waist, pulling him in close.

“Love you,” Minseok says, and Junmyeon feels his chest go so  _ tight,  _ then lightening instantly, like he’s in a cloud.

“Love you, baby,” he replies softly, bringing his arm down to blanket Minseok’s, slotting his fingers on top and between Minseok’s hand, and he turns his head, offering his lips, and Minseok takes the offer, kissing him.

Minseok rolls his hips like sin, plunging his cock into his ass and Junmyeon sighs, his body coated in sweat as he’s fucked. Minseok fucks him so well, keeps him stuffed full, his cock keeping his hole stretched and Junmyeon knows he won’t last for much longer, his cock hot and hard, and there is a heat in his belly that he can’t ignore. 

“Oh,  _ Minseok,”  _ he moans as Minseok  _ rams  _ in hard, grinding in deeper and pumping his hips in small thrusts that drives Junmyeon up, making him moan. “Oh, yeah,  _ baby,  _ gonna come. Going to come on your cock.”

“Fuck,” Minseok moans, fucking him even harder, hips slapping Junmyeon’s ass, and they’re going to be bruised and dancing will be a pain but Junmyeon wants  _ more,  _ revels in it all. “Fuck,  _ fuck,  _ I’m close too.”

“Gonna fill me up?” Junmyeon breathes, and Minseok  _ moans,  _ crying out as he hammers into him, his cock reaming him out, and Junmyeon has a hard time even  _ thinking,  _ forming words. 

“Yes,  _ yes Myeon,”  _ Minseok moans, and his hand moves further down, and Junmyeon cries out as his fingers curl around his cock, and he doesn’t even stroke him. Just holds him as he fucks his ass, pace becoming less consistent, a little more desperate. It’s all so fucking  _ good.  _ “Going to come inside you, fill you up, make you sloppy-”

_ “Min, fuck,”  _ Junmyeon gasps, reaching back to grab Minseok’s ass and keep him rooted inside him as he comes, spilling all over Minseok’s fingers, on the bed, and he moans, pushing his ass back against his cock and clenching and trmebling and he feels lit up.

“Oh, Junmyeon,” Minseok breathes, sounding so reverent, and Junmyeon shivers as he comes down, everything feeling on edge. 

“Come inside me,” he moans, squeezing around Minseok’s length, everything so  _ hot  _ around him and he’s panting, needing to feel Minseok spill inside him, wanting everything. 

Minseok moans, and he’s tilting Junmyeon’s head back to place a  _ searing  _ wet kiss on his mouth, and he’s fucking into him so ferociously, driving in  _ so hard,  _ Junmyeon jostles from the impact of the thrust, pushed forward so much Minseok’s cock almost slips out entirely. It’s so  _ hot,  _ and Junmyeon moans as Minseok just pulls him back to his hips, just to fuck him harder, and harder, his pace erratic and desperate, and Junmyeon hums, oversenstive and feeling so  _ good. _

When Minseok comes, it’s with a low moan, gasps, driving his cock into his hole and staying, and Junmyeon trembles, moaning with him until his mouth is dry as Minseok shoots inside him, painting the inside of his ass with hot come, and Junmyeon clenches around his cock,  _ loving it. _

“Fuck, yes,  _ so good, Minnie,”  _ he moans, keeping Minseok inside for as long as he can, relishing in being together like this. Another miracle.

“Hmm,” Minseok presses his lips against Junmyeon’s shoulder tiredly, patting his hips so he can let up a bit. Junmyeon pouts slightly, not really wanting him to go, but he relents, thinking about how this must be uncomfortable for him in the long run, and he relaxes, moving a bit so Minseok can pull out.

When he does, they both make a face as his no longer erect length slips out of his hole, but it’s then that Junmyeon really  _ feels it;  _ he hums at the feeling of come inside him, keeping him slick, and he imagines the trail of it, running from his ass and Minseok’s cock, keeping them connected, and it makes his neck hot, his face flushed. 

“Hmm, what are you thinking about?” Minseok asks him quietly, teasing. “Your neck is red.”

“Shush now,” Junmyeon says, making Minseok chuckle. He’s blushing, caught, but he’ll  _ never  _ admit it, is too mortified at how much he loves the way Minseok’s come coats his insides, gushing out of his hole. He shivers, feeling sexy and vulnerable and he pushes his ass out, reaching back to spread himself open, feeling it  _ drip  _ out of him. 

“Fuck, Junmyeon,” Minseok breathes, and Junmyeon knows he’s staring down at where his come is dribbling out of him. He gasps when Minseok prods inside gently, using a finger to push some of the come back into his hole, sinking in and out, and Junmyeon pushes back against him, dizzy with want and over sensitivity and heat. 

Minseok moans, pulls out suddenly and brings Junmyeon’s head back to kiss him, hard, licking across his teeth and pumping his hips against his ass, his mostly soft cock sliding between his ass cheeks. 

Junmyeon trembles, reaching back again to sink his fingers into Minseok’s hair and kiss back just as fiercely, with as much tongue and teeth Minseok affords him. 

It takes a long while for them to calm down, and Junmyeon revels in it, being held close and intimately and kissed within an inch of his life. Eventually, he turns over to blanket himself over Minseok to get at his mouth more comfortably, kissing him, licking across his bottom lip, his jaw, his neck. 

Minseok hums, enjoying it still, but Junmyeon can feel him sink into the bed just a little more, feels him calm underneath him, his chest slowing in breaths and he looks up. Sees the sleepiness in his eyes, and Junmyeon lifts his head up, giving him a small smile.

Minseok smiles in turn, chuckling at everything that had transpired. Junmyeon laughs with him, knowing how he feels. 

Things are still a little shaky. But it’s okay; Junmyeon knows they’ll get to where they need to be. 

“Thank you, Myeon,” Minseok says then, voice soft, his eyes and smile tender for him, and while Junmyeon can still see some of the sadness that had lingered like in the hospital, it’s not quite as strong now. Now, he sees acceptance, relief, and mostly. Love. 

Junmyeon smiles for him. “Of course. Everything for you.”

Minseok leans up to press a soft kiss on his lips, and he says, just for him, especially for him, “I love you.”

Junmyeon breathes it in, “I love you, too,” he replies, and he holds him, hoping tomorrow is better. 

.

Things go slowly with Minseok, and it’s hard, not always perfect, but it’s good, it’s patient and tender and Junmyeon works hard. They both do. 

Minseok’s leg improves, and Junmyeon tries to be there for as many therapy sessions as he can. Sehun is patient too, and eventually, Minseok is back to moving as he was before the last hospitalization. Junmyeon is always so proud of him, loves him fiercely. 

After their night together, things had improved, but they both know that the wound of what Junmyeon had said will take some time to heal. And even then, the scar of it will remain, and they skate around the issue more than they should. 

Junmyeon doesn’t know if they’re both ready to talk about it, yet. But he tells himself, as much as the scar will remain, remind them of how he had let himself spiral so quickly to say something so deceivingly cruel and barbed, he knows that what’s also left once the wound heals is something stronger, present but hard-earned. 

So, they work towards it, day by day. 

Things go quickly with everything else, and he’s barely able to get a grasp on it. 

So many things to be done. Photoshoots, jacket shoots, music video shoots, talk shows and variety programs and stages and showcases and. 

It’s a lot. It’s so much. 

Junmyeon feels like he barely has time to breathe, take it all in.

It’s rehearsal day today, and things aren’t going particularly bad, really. But they’re not quite great, either. 

It’s not as if that he’s not liking the way he looks as he and Jongin go through the number in front of the mirrored wall of the practice space. Not as if he’s getting the steps wrong or doing things offbeat, not as if he’s doing things as he’s always done.

Junmyeon has always had to be professional, and that’s what he’s doing now, as is usual. Giving his all, doing things the way Minseok would be proud of. 

It doesn’t stop him from feeling hollow, for a reason he can’t quite explain. 

“Great work, hyung,” Jongin says, breathing hard as they wind down from the number, and his expression looks bright. 

Junmyeon smiles in return, body aching, but he doesn’t feel quite as fulfilled. The burn doesn’t feel as hard-earned or as satisfying as he thought it would feel, when he decided to do this. 

He thought that doing this would mean he would get some peace of mind, some fulfillment. Something to make him not feel so  _ hollow.  _

The disappointment of it not coming to fruition in the ways he had hoped isn’t really crushing, as it is expected. Like, he’d always  _ known,  _ that it wasn’t going to give him any of those feelings, yet he had hoped anyway, but still expecting the worst. 

“You should be proud,” Jongin says, smiling . He seems so sure of his words, doesn’t seem to question or doubt Junmyeon’s work ethic, or how he’s feeling. “It’s going to be great live.”

“I hope so,” he replies, trying to keep his expression somewhat positive, but truthfully. He feels drained. 

Jongin must notice the shift in his mood, as he blinks, looking at him quietly. “Hyung, are you alright?” 

Junmyeon breathes slowly, not knowing how to answer. He doesn’t want to lie, but telling the truth just feels like it would be more trouble than what it’s worth. Doesn’t even know what he would say, anyway. 

So, he replies instead, “I’m good.”

“You sure?” he’s asked.

He nods, smiling for good measure, hoping it will be left alone. Jongin is sweet, he’s one of Junmyeeon’s favorite people, and he knows he means well, just wants to make sure he’s feeling okay despite everything that had happened. 

But Junmyeon doesn’t really know  _ how  _ to feel okay, doesn’t know if he’s even allowed. So, he trudges on, as he always has. 

“Minseok would be proud of you, too,” Jongin adds, and. It’s sweet words, meant to be encouraging, to lift his spirits and reassure him that he’s doing well. 

Yet, Junmyeon feels himself freeze. And the slow spiral is then instant, making him unable to think.

He doesn't know. Doesn’t know how Minseok feels. Doesn’t know what he feels, either. 

He had been blank, up until that moment. Now he is too full, overwhelmed with many emotions he can’t quite encapsulate or fathom.

He feels alone, more than anything. Unsure, and achingly alone.

“I hope so,” he says, and his exhale is labored, tired. 

Jongin looks at him, and his founder. Is transparent on his face. “Hyung, did I say something wrong?”

And that’s just it. He didn’t say anything out of turn, or something ‘Junmyeon wasn’t feeling himself. “No, Nini, you didn’t. I’m just tired.”

Jongin looks at him, his concern not diminishing much, but he just nods, showing his understanding. “I worked you hard today, hyung. Do you want to call it in early?”

Normally, if it were  _ before,  _ Junmyeon would work through the breaks. He’d be the. one to reject going home first, he’d be the one to keep going and going until Baekhyun would be yelling at him, threatening to strip off his pants if he didn’t wrap up soon.

But now, he sighs, feeling not quite relief, but an exhale that leaves his mind and chest a little lighter, but only slightly. “Yeah, that sounds good,” he replies, giving him a small smile. 

“Alright then,” he says, smiling in turn, though Junmyeon can see his hesitance. He’s telling the other dancers and Baekhyun and Chanyeol stand from where they’d been waiting and watching in the back, already packing up their things as well as his.

Junmyeon swallows, heart heavy, and he tells them, “I’ll just freshen up in the bathroom.”

“Okay then,” they tell him. “We were thinking some light soba for dinner, is that alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine with anything,” he says, grabbing his fresh shirt and jacket, waving as he leaves the room.

He freshens up, as he’d said. Changes into clean clothes and washes his face, splashing the water on his skin to try to revive himself. He breathes heavily, hands on either side of the sink as he stares down, wondering how he got here.

Here is his fresh start. He’s doing well,  _ so well,  _ and he is so  _ sure  _ in the work he’s putting out. The song is good, all the other songs are good, and the choreography is smooth but still so visceral and powerful and he’s working  _ so hard.  _

Yet, he feels like this. Not knowing if he’s really done enough to deserve it, if he can really have this. 

He looks up at himself in the mirror, and exhaustion stares back at him. Loneliness, grief, and he stares, stares on at himself, doesn’t know how he could have been okay, and then not anymore. 

He knows he can’t go back in. 

So he doesn’t turn to the direction of the practice room, and he takes the stairs, going up, up, up to where the two of them would escape to when dances were too tough or when there had been so much pressure to do better than the last comeback, or when it was before they debuted, and there was so much competition and the future was uncertain, and yet. They had found each other, gravitated towards one another, fought for each other, so that they could get here, to the point wherein everyone would finally believe in them the way they had always believed in each other. 

The air is cold, just shy of the winter bite that will greet him when he starts promoting, and he steps out to the roof deck, edged fenced in for the rooftop basketball court that the company had splurged on, but hardly anyone ever uses. Junmyeon stares out at the setting sun, orange and pink skies calm and fiery, foiling the way he feels inside. Not quite stormy, but dim, clouded. 

He feels it all, and his eyes sting with wetness that just comes. There’s so much he needs to do, and to think about. But, with everything he’s feeling, with everything breaking him down and making him weak, he wants to breath. Just to be allowed to  _ breathe,  _ and yet. 

He brings out his phone as he seats himself down the ground, staring out at the Seoul skyline, silhouetted by the setting sun, something he’d seen so many times before from this same spot, with the person he holds closest to his soul. 

There are several missed calls from either Chanyeol and Baekhyun. He feels guilty again, knowing him wandering off would have worried them, like they hadn’t been through enough the past year. But, while he knows he should reply to them, let them know where he is, that he just needs a moment to breathe to himself, there’s one person he calls first. 

_ “Hello?” _

He closes his eyes, and begins to sob, feels his chest tear itself apart. “Minnie. Minseok.”

_ “Myeon? Hey, why are you crying?”  _ his voice is soft, like warmth curling around his heart.  _ “Baby, what’s wrong?” _

“I’m sorry,” he says, breath coming out in shudders, tears running down his face and his nose dripping with snot. He breaks down, pained and confused and  _ lonely,  _ feeling the weight of everything compounding on his shoulders, and he shakes with it, feeling open, vulnerable. Can’t quite stand on his own anymore. 

_ “For what, Junmyeon?”  _ Minseok says, his voice kind and tender as he guides him along, letting him know he’s there. 

Junmyeon feels shame twisting itself into his veins, making him cry harder, making him feel breathless with it. “For. For what I said to you. For so many things.”

Minseok makes a small noise, and Junmyeon clings to his words,  _ “It’s okay, baby. I’m sorry too. Don’t think about it too much, just focus on me, okay? How are you?” _

Junmyeon breathes slowly, focuses on him like he said, and he cries still trying to calm himself as he answers, “I just. I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sorry for being a nuisance.”

_ “You’re not, baby,”  _ Minseok tells him gently. He sounds hurt, as if Junmyeon calling himself what he really is giving him pain,  _ “Don't call yourself that. And you can talk to me, anytime you want.” _

Junmyeon cries, on and on, feels like he’d been holding it in for too long, and it crashes down on him now, making him exhausted, relieved, overwhelmed. Minseok is too good for him, and he knows it well. 

“Even when I say stupid things and hurt you?” he asks, opening more wounds, and Minseok makes a small noise.

_ “I love you more than any of the things you don't really mean,”  _ Minseok tells him, tenderly, but leaving no room for Junmyeon to question what he means. He means it, he  _ loves him.  _

Junmyeon cries, not realizing how the reassurance would fill him with a warmth he’d been wanting.

“I’m tired,” he admits, sobbing through the words, leaning heavily against the wall. “I’m really tired.”

Minseok pauses on the other end, letting Junmyeon cry his frustrations, his devastation, just. Everything. Months and months of quiet grief and struggle, soaking his shirt.

_ “Junmyeon, baby,”  _ Minseok says gently, his voice so warm, soft.  _ “Are you okay? Really okay, like you’ve been saying? Please, tell me the truth now.” _

He trembles hard. Swallows down his pride, cries more, “No, I’m not. I thought I was, but. I’m really not.”

_ “Myeon,”  _ Minseok says softly,  _ “I’m here, I’m here. What do you need?” _

Junmyeon is shaking still, and the sky is calm. He starts, “I, I know you might still be mad at me-“

_ “No, I’m not, baby,”  _ Minseok tells him, tone urgent, kind. 

Junmyeon wouldn’t blame him if he was. 

He breathes in, gathering any slivers of courage he still had left, and asks, “Please, Please come see me, I really. I need to see you, please.”

Minseok doesn’t pause,  _ “Of course. Wait for me, I’ll go to you, Where-“ _

“Our spot,” he says meekly, hating how weak he sounds, how needy, but. He also, just doesn’t care anymore. He knows he’s all those things, and he acknowledges it, but knows that it’s up to him, if he wants to wallow in it, or move forward. 

He wants to move forward. He knows, even with as much work he had put in alone, he needs some help. 

_ “Okay, baby, I’m coming,”  _ Minseok says, and Junmyeon waits, crying.

He doesn’t know really, how long he sits there on the ground, tears spilling down his cheeks. The sky is a dusky rose and coral one moment, and then the next time he looks up, along the edge of the skyline it’s a dark blue, purple where it blends with the fading pink, and Junmyeon is cold, cold. 

The door to the rooftop opens, and Junmyeon feels his chest pause painfully, only to be  _ relieved  _ when Minseok emerges from behind the door, looking  _ beautiful  _ and worried and Junmyeon can’t help it. 

He sobs, breaking into a fresh wave of tears as he struggles to get up from the ground, and he’s clumsy, clambering over to Minseok desperately. And Minseok isn’t phased, comes to meet him in the middle and pulling him into his chest, so  _ warm,  _ achingly loving as he embraces Junmyeon, holding him tenderly as he comforts him. 

“I’m  _ sorry,”  _ Junmyeon says, is sorry for so many things, and Minseok just soothes him, his hands so gentle and he leans back, pressing soft kisses on Junmyeon’s cheeks, his lips. Kisses him as he cries, even though he knows he’s gross and there’s snot hanging off his nose and he keeps hiccuping into Minseok’s mouth. Minseok isn’t deterred, and it’s like a beautiful relief; it’s still painful, but there is lightness all the same. “Minnie, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re okay, Myeon, it’s okay,” Minseok tells him, brushing away the matted hair from his face, holding him close. “It’s okay.”

“I’m. I’m being a burden,” he says, shaking his head even as Minseok tries to reassure him that he’s not. “I know I am. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that, I should have figured out how to deal with my grief healthily.”

“Yes. Yes, you should have,” Minseok doesn’t sugarcoat, but his tone isn’t harsh, just warmth and presence, “And it hurt. It really did. But you are  _ not  _ a burden because you’ve been through something traumatic. You’re not. You’re my best friend, you’re the love of my life. I’ll always come to you. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he says, convinced that he just doesn’t deserve  _ any of this.  _ To be comforted, to be loved. To have come out of what happened  _ okay,  _ but Minseok. Minseok almost lost his life. And he  _ still  _ treated him like shit. “I hurt you so much, I said so much stupid shit.”

Minseok looks at him, eyes dimmed and tearful as Junmyeon sobs, curling against Minseok’s chest, and he feels so  _ weak.  _ Feels like collapsing, but Minseok holds him close, giving him a bit of his own strength to borrow, lets him cry, lets him take his time and feel everything he’s feeling, letting him know that the way he’s feeling is valid. 

“Let’s go home,” Minseok tells him gently, “Let’s rest. I’ll stay with you.”

“I,” Junmyeon’s chest shudders as he tried to wipe his face, clear it of his tears. “I want to. But-“

“No, none of that now,” Minseok says, leaning in to kiss the corner of Junmyeon’s eye, breathing with him. “Don't talk yourself out of something you should know you deserve. It’s okay to want it. I’ll stay with you. Okay? Let’s rest.”

Junmyeon snuffs, and he cries again. Allows himself to give in, and let Minseok hold him, and guide him home. 

.

He didn’t know how tired he’d really been, until they get back to the dorms, Minseok helping him change out of his practice clothes, and even before Minseok can get him into a new shirt, he just _falls_ on top of his bed, unable to keep his eyes open.

But, he’s not shaken awake, or disturbed. Warmth envelopes him, and he rests, finally letting himself give in.

When he wakes, it’s to the emptiness of his belly, reminding him that every had not even been able to eat dinner before he had crashed, and the windows are drawn closed, the light shining through it dim but not harshly dark either, telling him it’s near dawn.

It’s warm. He realizes that Minseok had climbed into bed with him, Junmyeon blushing a little, embarrassed that he couldn’t even keep himself awake enough to put on anything aside from his underwear, while Minseok had at least slipped on a borrowed pair of sleep pants from him, but he curls into his arms more, hiding his face in his neck and dying not to think too much.

Tries not to think about the scene he must have made, disappearing for a few hours and not talking to anyone; tries not to remember how severely he had broken down in front of Minseok, crying and crying so much that he had been too tired to do anything else. He tries to not dwell on what he had said, so emotional and raw and while he wouldn’t take it back, knows he means it, he wishes he had chosen his words better. Wishes that he could have been more articulate, and not so  _ broken,  _ though he knows he can’t hide what he’s really feeling for much longer.

“Hey, baby,” is murmured then. He blinks, and leans back to see Minseok’s sleepy eyes, barely open, his cheeks a little puffy from sleep, but his small smile, intimate, just for Junmyeon, and it calms him immensely, despite everything that’s going on in his head. 

“Hi,” he says, leaning in to brush his nose against Minseok’s, ignoring their raw, sleep-worn breath. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

Minseok shakes his head, smiling still. “You must be hungry. Yeol and Baek brought over some food while you were asleep. I’ll go and heat it up for you.”

“I can do that,” he tries, but Minseok shakes his head, leaning in to kiss his cheek. Junmyeon hums, leaning against his lips, taking the comfort offered to him, if a little shamelessly. 

“I’ll do this for you. Let me,” Minseok says, and he doesn’t leave much room for it. He sits up, pulling up the pants where they had fallen slightly on his bare hips, and before he leaves the room, gives him a small smile, and offering Junmyeon in his place the small stuffed toys of Tan and Mini Minnie, situating them right in Junmyeon’s arms. 

Junmyeon laughs, can’t quite help it, and Minseok gives him a bright expression as he cuddles the toys closer to his chest. 

Everything is still a little shit, right now. But Junmyeon will take in these small joys, will let himself be kissed by his love, and will stop trying to tell himself  _ ‘no’  _ so often. Even just for today, he will rest. 

So, Minseok heats the food, and they eat together in bed, exchanging bites, and Junmyeon feels at peace for the moment. He’s hugging a bunch of soft, cute things, Minseok being the cutest of them, taking in the kisses being peppered all over his face, and even just for now, he lets himself forget that there are things he needs to do, places he needs to go, responsibilities weighing on his shoulders. 

It’s later on, when they’re done eating and they’ve spent a few lazy hours in bed, when Minseok mentions that he had talked to Jongin and asked him to give Junmyeon the day off does Junmyeon is reminded that this is temporary. That the good things don’t last, not for him, and he breathes in deeply, chest not as light as it was a few moments ago. 

Minseok catches the look on his face, can just tell what he’s thinking. He starts slowly, gently as he reaches for Junmyeon’s hand, linking their fingers together, “We need to talk about what happened.”

“I know,” he says, feeling apprehensive, even though he knows they need to. He swallows, looking down at the Mini Minnie on his chest, eyes large and face round, criminally adorable. He gains a bit of strength, says, “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Minseok says, leaning on his elbow as he looks at him, his other hand warm on Junmyeon’s belly as he comforts him gently. “Just. You were so upset. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“You’ve done  _ too much,  _ for me,” Junmyeon says, sighing. 

Minseok is quiet for a moment, considering him. When he speaks again, it’s soft, quiet as he tells him, “You know, I would do it with you, if I could.”

It’s nothing Junmyeon doesn’t already know. Still, it stirs something in Junmyeon’s chest, and it’s a bittersweet, comforting thought. “I know.” He pauses, thinking about everything they’ve endured the past almost-year, together, and individually. It’s so  _ much,  _ but. 

Anyone else, they would crumble. Not to say that they’re doing exceptionally well, but. They’re both still here, aren’t they?

“It’s so hard without you,” Junmyeon admits to him, and he’s had his hare of crying as it is, but his chest feels raw, like it had  _ just  _ been scrubbed clean, skin sensitive and vulnerable to whatever barbs that might just make it hurt again.

Minseok is quiet, looking at him. When he speaks, it’s in a voice so tender Junmyeon almost misses what he says, but he  _ can’t  _ miss the words, “I’m sorry I pushed you. You don’t have to do it, if it’s making you feel this torn.”

“No,” Junmyeon shakes his head, he has  _ no,  _ “I  _ do  _ want to do it, really. It’s just been so overwhelming. And you didn’t force me, or anything like that. You’ve only ever helped me do what I needed to do.”

Minseok gives him a sad smile, and Junmyeon watches him quietly. Sees how he comes to terms with his thoughts, faults, feelings, tells him, “I was being selfish, in a way, and I think we both know it and should acknowledge it. I didn’t think it through, didn’t think everything I had said about us as a group, about the future, would affect you so much. I just, I didn’t wait until you were really ready and I shouldn’t have told Yixing, especially since you weren’t ready. I didn’t even ask you.”

“I know you meant well.”

“It doesn’t matter if I did,” Minseok says, looking at him sadly, apologetically. “I still didn’t consider you as much as I should have. You were in the accident too, and you have your own scars to bear and I didn’t think of that enough. I didn’t realize that leaving you to do all of this alone would be so hard on you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon feels his chest tighten, but. While it is still undeniably heavy, aching with the emotional weight he had had to bear for months on end, Minseok‘s words are a balm. Reassuring, comforting, and validating him. That Minseok is uinderstanding him, finally, that he is with him, truly, that they are walking this path of healing together, as they have been from the beginning, finally at pace with each other after some missteps.

Junmyeon breathes, takes it in. But, he admits to Minseok quietly, “It’s not just that, though. Like. It’s not just you. I felt like I had to do this not just for you, not just for me. But, for us, together. Like I could still have a bit of you with me, and so that you cxould have a bit of your life still with you.”

Minseok’s eyes are shining, and he leans in to kiss Junmyeon. His lips are gentle, and Junmyeon breathes him in, and somehow, he understands. 

“You’ll always have me,” Minseok tells him, voice tender and full of love. “You’re my partner for life. I may not be onstage with your but you know. I’m always here with you, supporting you, and you can lean on me a little, okay?It might not be enough, but everything I can offer is there for you to take. Depend on me, even just a little. The way I depend on you.”

Junmyeon didn’t even know he had started crying, but he is, wetness rolling down his cheeks, but this time around, it feels like  _ relief,  _ lightness that finally feels earned, like he can take it. He leans against Minseok’s hand as it cups his cheek, and if only Minseok knew just how much Junmyeon is bolstered by his love, by his strength. But, to be offered so much kindness and understanding so openly, lovingly, Junmyeon breathes it in, takes it as the miracle it is. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

Minseok tilts his head at him curiously, looking confused. “What for?”

“I didn’t think, too,” Junmyeon says, and Minseok waits for him as he gathers his words, knowing this is important, too. “I forgot, I didn’t keep in mind how hard this would be for you.”

Minseok makes a small noise, and he says gently, “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay that I forgot,” Junmyeon says. He blinks back tears, feeling like there’s so much he needs to make up to him. “Even for just a moment, I didn’t remember how important this is for you. You, you are  _ made  _ for this. You’re made to be onstage, to sing and perform, and it was taken from you. I’m sorry I lost sight of that.”

Minseok gives him a sad smile, but his eyes are bright, and he leans in to kiss Junmyeon’s cheek, staying there. “It is hard. But, you know, there’s not much I can do for it now. I can choose to dwell on it, or I can move forward and lift you up and choose to be happy. And I want to be happy, so I’ll do what I can to be so. And that includes supporting you, being here for you, loving you. And you known I get to see you be so  _ beautiful,  _ be everything I know you are, and in that, I’m fulfilled.”

Junmyeon is crying, but it feels more like a soft comfort, enveloping him from all sides, and he leans in, kissing Minseok. 

Minseok smiles against his lips, tells him, “I’m proud of you. Always.”

.

They go slowly, properly. He gets back to work, and it’s not as if things are instantly easier. As much as Junmyeon wants it to be like that, he knows things don’t really work out that way, but it’s okay. People are patient with him, and most of all, he’s beginning to be patient with himself. It’s slow going, but they’re getting there. 

Minseok is true to his word, He visits him at work almost everyday, and when he can’t, he is there for Junmyeon at the end of the day, looking and feeling like home, and he’s endlessly supportive. It’s hard, as these things tend to be, and Junmyeon still has his moments of loneliness, the  _ tired  _ not quite gone, but. It is not as constant, and he thinks of it as a good step forward. 

And mostly, there is not a moment when Junmyeon feels unloved. Minseok loves him, takes care of him, and things are good. 

And, he manages to talk to Kyungsoo again. 

It’s long session, though Junmyeon didn’t expect any less. 

“-And, I fucked up. I snapped at him, and it was  _ awful,”  _ he says, pain becoming fresh once again as he recounts what had happened that day. “Just, I never want to see that face on him again.”

“Did he forgive you?” Kyungsoo says, much too patient for all the shit Junmyeon is unloading on him. 

“He shouldn’t have,” he replies, and Kyungsoo hums. 

“Well, truthfully. Forgiveness isn’t up to you, is it?” he says, voice calm, and really. Junmyeon had missed his level-headedness about everything, putting his problems in perspective in a way that’s understanding, and not condescending. “Minseok mad that choose to forgive you, by himself. And while you know yourself well, there are parts of yourself that only he knows. Despite everything you think about yourself, he knows you, and he forgave you because he knows who you are. He can probably tell you that you’re worth more than the mistakes you make.”

And, Minseok had said something along those lines, calming Junmyeon as he sat on the rooftop basketball court of the company building. Junmyeon takes in the words, repeated again to him, and he says, “I’ve just been feeling so all over the place. Just. I keep snapping and feeling so crushed over things that no one gets sad over.”

“That’s not fair to yourself, you know,” Kyungsoo tells him. “Not everyone has gone what you’ve gone through.”

Junmyeon breathes, feeling sad. “People have gone through worse.”

“That doesn’t invalidate the fact that you were in a traumatic event, and had to deal with the traumatizing consequences,” Kyungsoo says patiently. “You can think of it this way. Pain fills our bodies similarly to the way a scent can fill a room. It doesn’t matter how little, or how much scent is used, or how big the space is. Eventually, even if it takes a while, that scent will reach every corner of the room. It’s a bit like that with pain; even if you think the pain isn’t as tangible, or physically felt as it is in others, it will still reach you, and find a way into your heart, your soul, your mind. You will still  _ feel it,  _ maybe even months after the initial impact.”

Junmyeon looks at him, feeling himself pause, finding himself latching on to the words, his emotions being given a name. Suddenly, he’s a little overwhelmed, emotional, but it’s making more sense, finally. 

Kyungsoo smiles kindly, tells him, “You can think of it like delayed grief. You’ve been keeping yourself occupied and it’s sudden, the way the pain finally reaches every part of you, the way you can just fall apart. It’s not an excuse to treat your loved ones badly, but it’s there. We need to work through it, so it doesn’t happen again.”

And Junmyeon never wants it to happen again. He knows he will make mistakes, and Minseok will make his own, but if he can help it, he will never let himself give Minseok reason to cry like that, ever again. “I didn’t know I could snap at Minseok like that. Like, I was fine one minute. I still had some rein over it, and then. Without any explanation, I wasn’t.”

“It’s unpredictable,” he replies. His tone is still ever patient, lacking judgement. “Trauma affects us all differently, but we do our best to deal with it healthily. How are you feeling now?”

Junmyeon sighs, but it doesn’t feel particularly heavy. “Better. I mean, I’m working hard and the album will be released soon. I’m scared, but. It’s not like it was the way it was before?”

He struggles with his words, but Kyungsoo waits with him, helping him along, “Like you’re not as apprehensive to release it? Or what people will think of it?”

“Yeah,” he says, “It’s like I don’t really care if people like it or not, or what their reaction will be. Of course, I still kind of want them to  _ like it,  _ I don’t think that will ever really go away. But, it doesn’t have any weight on what I think of it. I’m proud of the work and I know Minseok likes it too, so. I feel fulfilled in it, no matter what.”

“That’s great,” Kyungsoo smiles for him. It’s genuine, and Junmyeon feels even more bolstered. “It’s great when you have a tangible sign of survival that’s just yours. It’s kind of like your proof, to show that you’ve moved on, or you’re in the process of doing so.”

Junmyeon pauses, the words sounding familiar. “What, what was that?”

Kyungsoo explains further patiently, “It’s something more concrete, that shows that despite everything, here you are. You survived, you’re living still, and even though things are hard, I’m not letting what happened in the past weigh me down. Like, for example, take a look at Minseok. The way he is making himself stronger each and everyday, reclaiming the use of his body, it’s physical evidence. Like your music, it’s something you can see or touch or hear and listen to. Something you can come back to, and be reminded that you’re doing well.”

Junmyeon is then reminded of what Chanyeol had said, all those months ago as they made the melody in Junmyeon’s dream real, and Junmyeon smiles. Wonders why it had taken him this long to finally understand what he had meant. 

“That makes me like it even more, now,” he says with a small laugh. 

Kyungsoo smiles, “I’m waiting for it too. I’m sure it’s amazing. You’ve worked hard.”

“I’ll keep on working hard,” Junmyeon says, feeling even more determined to do well. 

.

Junmyeon is in the studio with Minseok, Yixing, Chanyeol, and Baekhyun, trying to figure out the final track list for the album, and it’s supposed to be a quick meeting, with a relatively simple agenda, but. They’ve been here for a few hours too many, trying to figure out what songs should be included, making cases for a few rejects, and what the specific order should be so the album’s flow is good and says exactly what Junmyeon wants it to say. 

“I really think ‘Bird’ should close out the album,” Chanyeol says, had been saying for the better part of the last half hour, “there’s nothing else that would be an appropriate final song.”

“But there’s just  _ something  _ about it, I can’t pin it down,” Yixing says, and Junmyeon feels similarly unsettled. “It’s not right, it just doesn’t fit.”

“It doesn’t have that particular verve we’re known for,” Minseok says then quietly. His input had been vital in getting things done more efficiently, and he looks over pensively as the song plays over the speakers. “It’s a beautiful song, but. It might be too sentimental in sound to be an album closer.”

“The title was literally named  _ ‘emo galaxy tune’  _ as a placeholder,” Chanyeol says, which is a good point, but. 

“Can’t picture Junmyeon going shirtless in the middle of ‘Bird,’ though,” Minseok muses aloud, making Baekhyun snort into his milk tea.

“Fair,” Chanyeol says, shrugging. Junmyeon goes pink, distracts himself by perusing over the song files they’ve recorded and collected over the months in the computer. “Well, if it can’t be your final song, what will you go for instead?”

“What about ‘First Love?’” Baekhyun says, but Yixing replies, “I thought we already established that one would be better off in the repackage?”

_ Repackage.  _

Junmyeon’s mind freezes, before it speeds up again. He scrolls through the files frantically, before realizing what he’s looking for isn’t in this folder at all. He sifts through the folders collected together in the music tab, before he finds it. He presses play, and after a few seconds in, the bantering quiets down as the song plays through the speakers, surrounding them in sound. 

“Of course,” Yixing says, his face looking brightened slightly, if the slightest bit melancholic. “‘Oasis.’”

Minseok is still, listening to the song, hearing his own voice, the last song he’d managed to record before the accident changed everything, meant to be the title for the repackage for their last album, bright and melodic as he sings,  _ ‘Chasing the sun-‘ _

“Oh,” Baekhyun says, listening to the song, lost for words as a silence falls over them as the song plays but everything is falling into place as they listen.  _ “Oh.” _

“I can’t believe we forgot about this one,” Chanyeol says as the song comes to a close, and there’s no question. This is the album closer. 

There’s a strange relief in Junmyeon’s chest. He feels the slight edge of sadness, the bittersweet conclusion, but also, nothing has felt more appropriate, more  _ right.  _

“Do you really want to?” Minseok is asking, then. He’s mostly asking Junmyeon, eyes set on him, and Junmyeon can’t quite read the look on his face. “With, with that song? And, my voice?”

And Junmyeon had never been more sure of anything, especially in that moment Minseok looks at him, wet sheen in his eyes full of hope. 

“I’m sure,” he says. He smiles, saying, “It. Can be a special track, It is a special album, after all. We’re reclaiming that day as ours. That is, if you’re okay with it?”

Minseok looks at him. He smiles, the curve of his lips a little shaky with his tears, and Junmyeon sees everything - this means  _ so much  _ to him, gaze full of emotion, and if Junmyeon could give this much to him, then he’s even more fulfilled. 

Knows how much it would mean to Minseok, to be heard one more time. 

“Right, so closing track is ‘Oasis,’ should be billed as a special track, too,” Yixing notes, toying it quickly into his work tablet. 

“Then ‘Bird’ before that?” Chanyeol tried again, but he’s making a face, as if he wasn’t convinced himself. No one in the room is really convinced the song should go in the album at all, great as it is. 

Junmyeon is sighing, playing with the mouse and watching as the cursor travels around aimlessly on the screen. It drifts over a file for the briefest of moments, but it’s enough to catch Junmyeon’s eye. 

He stops, feeling himself sit up straighter as he goes back to find it. He gives Yixing a look, who looks back at him curiously, not understanding quite yet. 

He looks at Minseok, and there is a hammering in his chest, but. Junmyeon needs to try, for both of them. Knows if this song were to be done at all, it has to be  _ both  _ of them. 

“Min,” he starts slowly, trying to do this well, “I don’t want to make you do anything that would be uncomfortable with you, but. There’s this song, and. I think, as a last gift, maybe you should record a few lines.”

They all stare at him, but Junmyeon only has eyes for Minseok. His eyes are wide, and instantly apprehensive of it all. 

“I. I don’t know, Myeon,” he says quietly. “My, my voice might not yield as much, as it used to.”

“I think your voice is beautiful,” he says gently. The other three in the room look away, giving them their moment, and Minseok just looks at him, still quiet, ultimately scared. “I know it’s hard, and. And it’s painful, I’m asking for a lot. But, I  _ know  _ you would do so well, with it. I know you would lift it to where it needs to be.”

“I don’t know,” he says. 

Junmyeon swallows, and he’s willing to let it go, because this really is asking Minseok to risk his voice, and reopen emotional wounds he’s worked hard to move on from. But, Junmyeon needs to  _ try.  _

“Will you listen to it?” Junmyeon asks, and Minseok looks at him. A pause, before he eventually nods, looking scared, but being  _ so brave,  _ and Junmyeon loves him immensely. 

He clicks play, and Yixing immediately gives him a look. 

“What’s this?” Baekhyun says, blinking as the soft melody drifts over the speakers, and seeing the blank look on Minseok’s face reminds Junmyeon that the two of them hadn’t heard this yet. 

Chanyeol’s expression goes soft, a quiet noise slipping through his lips as he recognizes the song, and Yixing looks pensive as the song is refreshed in his mind. 

As the track comes to a close, the first thing that’s said is, “It’s even more emo than ‘Bird,’” Baekhyun says, but there’s something in his tone that tells Junmyeon he doesn’t mean it to be negative. 

He looks at Minseok, and he sees how quiet he’d become, taking in what he’d just heard. Junmyeon catches the way he’d gone very still, but his hands clasped together on his lap trembles slightly. 

“What’s this one called?” Baekhyun asks, breaking the new silence that had fallen upon the room. 

“The working title is ‘Smile On My Face,’” Yixing answers when Junmyeon can’t. “We. Well, I was thinking, really, that it could be a surprise track. No one would know you were in it, as a final gift.” 

Minseok swallows, says, “It’s. It’s really sentimental, isn’t it? Like. A goodbye, almost.”

“Yea, it was kind of meant to be one,” Yixing says slowly, looking between the two of them. “Just, not just goodbye, though. But, ‘it’s okay to move on, let’s look at this time we had together with fondness,’ really.”

“Closing out a chapter,” Minseok says, and. Yes, it is. 

“Min,” he starts, voice gentle, doesn’t know what Minseok’s thinking of. 

But, Minseok cuts him off, saying quietly, “Okay.”

Everyone stares at him. Junmyeon looks at him, feeling like he must not have heard correctly. It feels like there’s an abundance of blood rushing through his veins, his heart pumping heavily in his chest. “What?”

“I’ll do it,” he says. He doesn’t look any less scared, but there is a loom of determination on his face. One Junmyeon knows well, knows that regardless of what it takes, Minseok is decided, and he’ll give everything he has. “It would be good, to close out this chapter well.”

Junmyeon feels a surge of pride, light and bright fill his chest as he takes in Minseok’s words. He can’t quite hold it in, and he stands up from his seat, just to lean over Minseok’s chair, and bring his head down to kiss him softly. 

Minseok hums against his lips, a little timid, but pressing back against his kiss, breathing him in, taking and giving comfort. 

Junmyeon leans back, smiling at him tenderly, and Minseok smiles in return, a little shy, but otherwise happy. 

“What?”

They startle, realizing they’re not the only ones there, and they see Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Yixing staring at them, looking shocked, but also, not so shocked. 

Junmyeon blinks, “Did you not know?”

“Obviously not,” Baekhyun says, still staring. No one looks at them with disapproval, so they’re relieved of that worry, at least. 

“How long has this been going on?” Yixing asks, and Minseok is the one who replies, “Around seven months.”

Seven,  _ seven months.  _ It had felt like it had been no time at all, but really. Seven months, it’s still not by any means a short amount of time. 

Junmyeon looks at Minseok, catches his eyes, and they smile at each other. Really wasn’t much time at all. They have so much more to do together. So much more to look forward to. 

They won’t take the time for granted. 

“Did we not tell you?” Junmyeon asks, genuinely confused with the reaction they’ve gotten. He was so  _ sure  _ he had at least told Chanyeol, maybe. 

But, judging by the look of shock on Chanyeol’s face, his wide eyes and dropped jaw, he apparently really had not. “I mean, I. We, we kind of figured you two were in love with each other-“

“Not that hard to figure out, though,” Baekhyun chimes in. Junmyeon stares at him, then at Minseok, who just blushes. “But. We didn’t know this was  _ already happening.” _

“Oh, our children,” Chanyeol is close to weeping. 

“We’re older than both of you-“

“Looked after both of you since the bad hair days and dumpling cheeks,” Baekhyun says, wiping off a fake tear. 

“Here’s the guide, Min, it should be relatively easy to follow,” Yixing says then, steering them all back to focus, just as well. 

They’re in there for a few more hours, Minseok calling Jongdae to help him with vocal exercises and just trying to get a semblance of being back in a recording studio, warming up his voice, learning a anew song within a few minutes’ time. 

It takes a while before he’s ready, and Junmyeon thinks he’d never gotten fully comfortable. But, everyone is patient, encouraging, and Junmyeon sits with him, learning the song with him, helping him. When Minseok reaches for his hand for support, Junmyeon is there, readily offering it to him. 

He records with a little difficulty, but. When he gets into the booth, Junmyeon sees him. Sees him with his spirit lifted gently, a small reminder of who he had been before everything had happened, ready to give it one more go, ready to move on, and still be happy. 

It’s Minseok, a bit of who he was in the past, but more importantly, it’s him as he is now. Brave, giving his all, living well despite everything. 

Junmyeon loves him, every way. 

Junmyeon cannot help the way his chest balloons with pride, love, overwhelmed as Minseok sings, records the lines in his soft tone. It’s certainly not the same as it was before, a little lower, a little raspier, and out of practice, but. It’s  _ beautiful,  _ lilting and tender and it carries through, harmonizing with Junmyeon’s recording, a wonderful foil to his own tone, It colors everything with a warm sunset, bringing them home at the end of the day, the last one for this part of their lives. 

Junmyeon cries. And he’d never been prouder, it’s always constantly in awe with how strong Minseok is. It tides him through and will lift him up, for the years and years to come. 

“How was that?” Minseok asks him from inside the booth as Yixing replays his previous take. He looks nervous, a little tired already from the push he’s giving his voice, but there is an energy in him that Junmyeon sees. “I know I could have done better-“

“Perfect,” Junmyeon says, smiling for him, his whole face wet, but he’s fiercely happy. “It’s perfect.”

.

Before they know it, the weeks they had turn into days, until they’re down to the day itself, preparing for the showcase a few hours before the album and music video’s releases. 

Junmyeon simultaneously feels like he’s about to fly out of his skin in nervousness, but also. He feels more in himself than he has for close to a year. 

The day feels unreal. This day last year, Minseok almost lost his life, and Junmyeon almost lost his best friend, his love, and the biggest reason he kept pushing himself to make music. 

Today, Junmyeon is releasing a full album, many of the songs he’d participated in creating personally, and two songs with Minseok, a body of work he is  _ proud of,  _ and Minseok is walking into the backstage dressing room, beam on his face and a simple bouquet of white roses in his hands, saying, “Congratulations, baby.”

Junmyeon smiles, getting up off the makeup chair to come up to him, pulling him into an embrace. HIs lips aren’t covered in product yet, so he takes the opportunity to press a kiss against Minseok’s lips, making him laugh against his mouth, but returning the touch lovingly.

“How are you feeling?” Minseok asks him. 

Junmyeon bounces a little on his feet. “Nervous. But, mostly excited. I’m ready.”

“I’m proud of you,” Minseok says, smiling. His whole face shines with it. “You’ve done  _ so well.” _

“Thank you,” Junmyeon says, and he truly feels so  _ happy.  _ It’s a slight nervous energy, but he’s not scared. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

Minseok looks at him, his expression soft, and Junmyeon has the urge to come up to him again and kiss him, but Baekhyun is steering Junmyeon physically back to his seat, at least looking truly sorry about it when he says, “Sorry, but you really do need to get ready, Myeon.”

“Right,” he says, not liking it very much, but he cooperates despite the frown on his face. 

Minseok chuckles, coming up to him to pinch his cheek lightly before his face needs to be primed and ready for foundation and the rest of his makeup. Junmyeon smiles up at him, looking at the way he’s dressed so  _ nicely  _ today, a black turtleneck and a white suit that fits him so well, and Junmyeon stops his train of thought before it gets too out of hand. 

“How do Jiongdae and Sehun like their seats?” he’s asking instead to distract himself, “They’re sitting next to Kyungsoo, right?”

“They like it a lot,” Minseok replies. “They say thank you.”

“Will you be sitting with them?”

“Ah. About that,” Minseok says, and Junmyeon looks up at him, confused, unable to read the sudden shift in his tone, or the way his face shifts into a new expression. Excited, nervous, but curiously blank. 

Before Minseok can continue, however, Baekhyun is coming in then again, clicking his tongue and pushing him into a makeup chair next to Junmyeon, saying,  _ “Hyung,  _ why haven’t you sat down yet? We need to get your hair and makeup done too.”

Junmyeon blinks, staring as Minseok gives him a sheepish look as a makeup stylist descends upon him, and he says, rather lost for words, “What?”

He doesn’t get a reply, but Chanyeol comes in then, cup of tea in hand, giving it to Minseok with a smile, saying, “Here, Minnie, Jongdae told me this would be good for your throat. And here’s your script,” he says, handing over a thick stack of large cards bound together, and Junmyeon blinks, his chest becoming tight and eyes stinging as he realizes what it is. 

“You. You’re, you’re hosting the showcase?” he says, voice slightly cracked, but he just stares at Minseok, emotional. 

Minseok looks at him shyly, admits, “Well. These two, and Xing, they helped.”

Junmyeon feels like crying, but he knows he can’t, face already most covered in foundation and blush and powder, but he sniffs all the same, excusing himself from his chair and going over to Minseok, leaning over to kiss him again. If it’s a little wet, Minseok doesn’t say anything, and even cups his cheek gently. 

“Don’t cry,” Minseok tells him, humming against his lips quietly. 

“I can’t help it,” he says, pouting as he tries to stave off the tears. 

MInseok chuckles, saying affectionately, lightly, so he doesn’t feel too much burden, “Ah, you’re crying now, but you’re going to be popping off your shirt later-“

_ “Shush,  _ let me be sensitive now, I’ll be nasty later,” he says, making Minseok laugh even more. He leans in, tucking his face into Minseok’s hair, mumbling, “I love you.”

Minseok doesn’t pause, voice just as soft, “Love you, too.”

The showcase starts not much later, Junmyeon opening the show to around 12,000 fans, certainly grand for a comeback showcase, especially if it’s just him, but then again. This one is special, and everyone knows it. 

The peach lights glow and give him strength, and he hadn’t realized just how much he had missed it, how much he had missed hearing them cheer, and even keeping Minseok’s name in the chants. It warms his heart, and lifts him up even higher. 

The show opens with ‘Going Crazy,’ a new B-side Chanyeol had crafted from another of Junmyeon’s music dreams, and it’s an energetic number that’s fully dynamic, shifting from one mood to the next. Junmyeon doesn’t have much time to breathe or think, just king through the motions of it. 

He thinks of Minseok, waiting backstage, waiting to come out and greet and surprise everyone. 

He can’t wait. The energy surges through him. 

The stage goes dark as the song ends, and he rushes to the back, breathing heavily as the stylists descend upon him as soon as he’s there, changing his outfit in mere minutes. 

He looks up as they button up his shirt, and he sees Minseok on the other side of the stage, waiting to enter, peeking out to see the thousands upon thousands of fans. His face is bright, at peace. 

He looks to the side, catches Junmyeon’s eye. He smiles, and Junmyeon smiles in turn. They’ve come a very long way. 

Junmyeon watches through the monitor as Minseok walks out to a dark stage, a hush falling over the crowd as they wait for what’s next. He’s almost jumping, wanting to see how they’ll react to this surprise. 

“Good evening, EVs,” Minseok’s voice is strong, stronger than it has been in a long time. “It’s my great honor and pleasure to be your MC for the night. I hope you receive me well.”

There’s a collective sound of confusion, tittering among the crowd. Junmyeon can almost imagine them, murmuring towards one another,  _ ‘Is that?’ ‘It sounds like-‘ ‘No, no way, it can’t be-“ _

The lights go back on. 

Minseok smiles for the crowd. 

And there is a uniform gasp, loud cheers that fall into wails and sobs, and Junmyeon watches as the monitor pans out to a view of the crowd, fans crying and surprised but surprised,  _ so, so happy  _ to see him. 

And Junmyeon really can’t hold it back. He cries with them, feeling overwhelmed now, too. 

“Oh, why are you all crying?” Minseok says, teasing everyone, giving them his  _ beautiful grin,  _ taking up his whole face. Everyone just cries louder, and he chuckles, scolding them playfully, “Ah, how can I continue like this, please don’t cry!”

The weeping gets almost hysterical, and Junmyeon  _ gets it.  _ He’d weep too, but he’s due out there in about a few minutes and there’s no time to redo his makeup that quickly. 

“Today is a happy day!” Minseok tells everyone, waving his cue cards a bit, trying to make everyone smile. “Let’s have a wonderful time together, and make good memories, okay?”

_ “Okay,”  _ is wailed back to him, and he beams, his face full of light. 

“Good,” he says, and Junmyeon is being lead towards the entrance back out to the stage, and he’s so full of emotions, it’s hard to think. Can barely remember his cues, what he needs to say and do, and it’s only because he’s being guided by the stage directors to walk out when he vaguely hears Minseok introducing him,  _ “Let’s all cheer for our number one boy, our Suho, our EX-ES!” _

He walks out, cheers deafening, but all he sees is Minseok, surrounded in the soft pastel peach, smiling at him, and Junmyeon can’t hold it in. He cries, breaking into tears and wiping desperately at his face, and the arena cries with him, feeling similarly overwhelmed. 

“Oh no, we just started. We’re barely ten minutes in,” Minseok says as Junmyeon comes up to him. Junmyeon frowns, sniffing hard as he kitten-punches him half heartedly. “I can’t work like this-“

“Stoooop,” Junmyeon whined at him, pouting. The crowd cries with him, and Minseok smiles for him, his gaze so tender and warm and loving, and Junmyeon takes the moment to embrace him, pulling him close, if just for a minute. 

A new surge of tears like a ripple across the arena, and everyone cries together. It really, truly feels so  _ surreal.  _ Junmyeon didn’t ever think they would be back here, in this way. 

There’s so much he’s thankful for. 

“Wah, you’re stealing the show, like you always do,” he says into his microphone, sniffing as he pulls away from Minseok, who laughs, eyes disappearing into half moons, so beautiful. 

“Can’t be helped, I’m just made for it,” Minseok says with a teasing shrug, and Junmyeon snorts, rolling his eyes as Minseok smirks at him. 

“Are you all happy to see him?” he asks the audience. 

They will loudly,  _ “Yeeees.” _

Minseok smiles for them all, his gaze becoming soft once again as he turns to address them all, “That makes me very happy,” he says, his smile quiet, a little sad, but true. “I’m sorry that I can no longer sing and dance like I used to. I promise if I could, I would. But I will always be here for everyone, for you,” he looks at Junmyeon meaningfully, his smile for him private, intimate. Just for him. “I’ll be here, in all the ways I can. We’re still walking the flower road together, yes?”

_ “Yeeeeeeeessss!”  _ echoes all around the arena. 12,000 strong, together with them. 

“Thank you. I’m happy,” Minseok says, beaming for everyone, “I suppose we get this show underway?”

And they go on from there. Junmyeon is filled with a bright,  _ bright  _ joy, so truly happy and fulfilled that they’re onstage together again. It feels different, because it  _ is  _ different, but somehow, it’s still them. Minseok is with him, pulling focus as he always has, and Junmyeon truly wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves him fiercely, and he always will. 

“Oh, it’s so  _ fun,”  _ Minseok says a bit later on as they’re doing the track by track introductions, when they’re a few tracks in and Junmyeon had done the spiel for the song, acting as if he hadn’t heard ‘Gravity’ before, moving along to the beat. “Galactic cowboy, is it not?”

“Why would you describe it like that?” Junmyeon says, laughing along. “I really like it, though?”

“And I like it too, what I said was a  _ compliment,”  _ Minseok says, giving him a look. “Consider it an honor if someone calls you a cowboy.” 

“I don’t know if everyone would agree,” Junmyeon says, giving him a shrug and looking to the fans, who are laughing and teasing them, and it’s good. The atmosphere is good, similar to what they were before, but still. Really, really different. 

Minseok should be sitting next to him onstage, as his partner, as the other half of this group. 

But, Junmyeon pauses, looks at him. Minseok is smiling brightly, and he realizes quietly that despite it all, Minseok is  _ still _ all those things. 

“Alright then, on to the next track,” Minseok says, and there is this warm look on his face, and Junmyeon knows what the next song is. The look makes perfect sense. 

The first notes of the snippet for ‘Smile On My Face’ trickle through, and the fans are quiet, stunned to hear a voice that isn’t Junmyeon’s coming through. It takes them barely any moment to recognize who they’re hearing, and when they do, it’s an instant Pavlovian response. The tears are loud and audible, and they’re sobbing as they listen to Minseok serenade them, not expecting the final gift. 

He sounds beautiful, and it really is another gift, another miracle. Junmyeon’s chest is I’m tight with emotion, and he’s so, so  _ thankful,  _ for everything. 

“Hmm, who is this?” Minseok teases, chuckling as the fans wail at him. “He sounds familiar.”

Junmyeon feels like he’s about to crumble, but he holds himself together. Breathes slowly as he answers, “Someone precious. Someone strong. A miracle in my life.”

Minseok looks at him tenderly. “Is that who he is to you?”

“He’s much more.”

“What else is he?” Minseok says, mouth quirking gently. “Who am I to you?”

Junmyeon breathes, exhaling in a shudder. The tears slip out even though he tries hard not to let them, and he says, “My best friend,” he says, pausing as he cries. He takes Minseok’s hand in his, says quietly, “My lover.”

Everyone cries around them, not knowing just how deep the words go. Minseok’s gaze is gentle, and he understands. That’s all Junmyeon needs. 

“Hmm, I sound so different, don’t I?” he says, shifting focus away, keeping even just a bit of that moment just theirs. Junmyeon has thought this countless times, but he truly,  _ deeply  _ loves him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do it in better condition,” he apologizes to the fans, who reject his apology, making collective noises that tell him,  _ ‘no, you’ve done so well.’ _

Junmyeon adds on, “I think you sound perfect. Doesn’t he?” The audience roars with their agreement. Minseok smiles at them all, thankful. “Thank you, for giving us this one last treasure. You’ve been such a miracle to us. We love you.”

“Please,” Minseok says, waving them all off. He looks at Junmyeon, particularly, and his love shines brightly in his eyes, warming Junmyeon from the inside out. “I would not be alive, really, if it weren’t for you.”

And really, it goes both ways. 

.

The comeback is more successful than anyone would have hoped for. 

The relief and reassurement it brings is a blessing, and another miracle. Junmyeon feels like he can finally breathe, and it feels earned,  _ deserved.  _

Today’s schedule is a radio show, and it’s going well, so far. Junmyeon is laughing, smiling as the host asks him questions about the song, the music video, particular  _ that part,  _ where he pops out of his shirt, and about the journey it had taken to get here. 

“And you’re still close with Xiumin, is that right?”

“Yes, he will be close to my soul forever,” he replies, meaning the words in every way he can. 

“It’s heartwarming to see, and many people, not just your fans, were so moved when he hosted for your showcase, and many more loved your interactions together,” they say, and Junmyeon smiles, agreeing. He’d been more than moved, himself. 

“Minseok and I have been through so much together,” he says, “Really, much more than most people go through. I didn’t think we would both still be here, but we are. And whatever had happened then, it gave us the opportunity to become even closer, and we treasure each other so much, even more so, now. Even if I’m promoting alone from now on, we are still together, in my heart. He will always be next to me, he is always here.”

“It’s rare to find such an enduring friendship,” they say, and it really is. “Ah, is it alright for me to ask this?”

“What is it?” he asks, feeling with how well everything had gone, there’s not much he wouldn’t answer. 

“Xiumin recorded a final song, and your supposed comeback track prior to the accident were included in the album,” they ask, their tone respectful. “He did very well.”

“He really did,” Junmyeon says. He has a feeling what the question is, and he’s not disappointed when he’s asked, “If, in the future, or in any possibility. If you were to release more music as a duo, if he were to promote again as Xiumin, would you be open to it?”

Junmyeon pauses, thinking through the question posed to him. There are many thoughts in his mind, and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with all the possibilities, even just the ones in his mind. 

It’s a loaded question, and there is no real simple answer. He looks up then, and he sees Baekhyun and Chanyeol, hanging out behind the producers of the show, behind the glass window of the booth, and then, the door opens. He watches as someone else enters the room, his heart warming as he looks on as Baekhyun and Chanyeol beam, pulling Minseok into their fold. 

Junmyeon watches him smile, grin widely, and looking at peace. 

The answer comes a little more easily then. 

“While I want that, and I know he wants that as well,” he starts, thinking through his words carefully, lovingly. “What I want more is for Minseok to be healthy and happy, with whatever new life he’s living and choosing. He’s learning to love this new life and staying strong, as he’d always done, so I want him to do that.”

Junmyeon pauses, looks up again. Minseok’s eyes meet his immediately, and endless fondness and love is offered in the gaze between them. Junmyeon smiles, and Minseok offers a wider one in turn.

“He honors the group by living, being healthy and alive and doing what he loves,” he says, the joy and contentment coming easily. “And I honor him by continuing on as we’ve always done. We love each other. We will always be EX-ES.”

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'for you now,' by kim junmyeon.
> 
> thank you for reading. there are many mistakes in terms of spelling and grammar, I apologize. I was forced to write much of the second chapter without a proper laptop. I hope it reads wel regardless.
> 
> please let me know what you think. 
> 
> thank you again to the mods. truly. I cannot say enough of my gratitude.
> 
> me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/xiusikwoo)


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